


Pendragon: New Beginnings

by TheTopazDragon



Category: Pendragon - D. J. MacHale
Genre: Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 63,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22578373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTopazDragon/pseuds/TheTopazDragon
Summary: Hey! I'm bringing this work over from my FFA account. I've made some changes to it. Nothing major, but enough that I'd recommend reading it here rather than there. I have more planned out, but as much as I'd like to continue writing it, I may not, just because it didn't garner much interest. Besides that, my main reader, Jay Foren, really didn't seem to like how this one ended up, so maybe it's better that I leave off on this story xDAnywho, let me know if you like it. Like I said, I have more planned - outlines for four more, each at least as long as this one - and who knows; I may even get around to Eelong one of these days!Oh, right - disclaimer: I don't own Pendragon. Pendragon belongs to D.J. MacHale :)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue: The Return

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I'm bringing this work over from my FFA account. I've made some changes to it. Nothing major, but enough that I'd recommend reading it here rather than there. I have more planned out, but as much as I'd like to continue writing it, I may not, just because it didn't garner much interest. Besides that, my main reader, Jay Foren, really didn't seem to like how this one ended up, so maybe it's better that I leave off on this story xD
> 
> Anywho, let me know if you like it. Like I said, I have more planned - outlines for four more, each at least as long as this one - and who knows; I may even get around to Eelong one of these days!
> 
> Oh, right - disclaimer: I don't own Pendragon. Pendragon belongs to D.J. MacHale :)

It started with an animal.

It had a vaguely humanoid shape, roughly five feet tall when standing erect. Its entire body was covered with thick fur, ranging in all shades of brown from dark to dusty. It had long, lanky limbs and switchback legs with tough, padded feet; triple jointed, nimble fingers tipped with short, non-retractable claws; collars of light, golden fur surrounded its neck, wrists and ankles. It possessed a lithe, slender form giving way to a slightly craning neck, and a face with a long snout, and eyes that were black with red irises. Its ears were long and silky, draping down to its shoulders.

The creature was sitting, legs crossed, hunched over, dozing. It heard a sound off to its left, and its eyes blinked open and darted in that direction. A member of its clan was approaching. The creature stood suddenly. This was the alpha, as it were. The pack leader. The lesser creature remained hunched over as it got to its feet. It brought its clawed hand to its chest in a gesture of deference and respect. The pack leader stood a bit taller than him, owing to the way it held itself, with a spine slightly less curved than those of the others.

As the greater approached the lesser, it gestured for the hunched one to follow him; they were to go check the boundaries of their territory. The lesser grunted, and as the greater leaned forward and began to run, the lesser followed.

They ran fast, low to the ground, snouts twitching, searching for any scent that was of interest to them. The creatures were a territorial species, and kept interaction with other clans to a minimum. Exchanges were typically aggressive, skirmishes fought over prey and land and water. The other creatures that roamed the plains kept largely out of their way. Some were prey animals, others were fellow predators. Some lived in the hot grasslands, others in the dense, humid forests, and yet others in the thick, murky swamps.

The world in which they lived was largely hot and humid. Humidity meant water, and water meant life. The planet was fertile, and species beyond count had sprung up over the course of its existence. Of all the creatures that called this planet home, however, not one existed that was capable of expressing the sentiment. No intelligent life had evolved on the planet, and while the two creatures that sprinted across the confines of their territory were clever and cunning, they were animals, nonetheless.

They passed several scents. Prey – stale; not worth following. An intruder – chased out of their territory this morning; no threat. Their kin – left over from the previous patrol, no doubt. They ran together, greater in front, lesser behind, looking for abnormalities, finding none. They ran the length of the clan's northern border, a few miles from the short-grassed drylands to the cliffs that marked the end of their territory. As the two creatures drew near the edge, the pack leader slowed and went to stand on the threshold, which overlooked a valley.

It was around sunset, and as the lesser creature approached where his alpha stood, it stopped and stayed respectfully back as the greater surveyed the dense jungle far below him.

The two creatures lived in a pack thirty-eight strong, typical for their species. Their territory stretched roughly twenty square miles, a peninsula approximately one half savannah, one half forest, with a large river coursing through it. They were omnivores, hunter-gatherers, and were seldom left hungry due to their cunning natures, curved claws, long legs, and sharp canines. The lesser creature that stood watching its alpha had lived its entire life within the confines of territory and instinct.

It was strong, clever, agile and resilient, but that did not get it very far in its clan. Their species had one leader at a time. This creature held absolute power. No other member held influence. The pack leader was respected by its kind. When a kill was made or when food was found, the greater got first say in where it went; when their territory was threatened by a rival clan looking to enlarge their hunting grounds, the greater was the first enemy they fought. When a dispute occurred between fellow clan mates, the greater settled it, and no one questioned the outcome.

When a leader died or became unfit to lead the clan, a new one rose to take its place. This leader was chosen through instinct. The beast in question stood in the clan's midst and made its claim, and the instinct that drives all animals to behave the way they do took over; a brief ritual was performed, unique to the species. Leadership was thus secured. There was no conflict, nor was there a need for one. A new leader simply occurred as a result of some sort of spontaneous mental mutation.

Besides this there was little organization in the clan. Some were stronger than others, faster than others, cleverer than others – but they all had their part to play. Most were content.

The creature that stood, watching its pack leader survey the valley below, was not.

A leader's position was never questioned. Such a thing was not in their instinct, but as the lesser watched the greater, it felt the stirrings of emotion within itself, emotions more complex than an animal has any right to feel. Resentment…Anger…Pride.  
The lesser had long been made to sit with its lot, following its alpha, its clan, its patterns, its instinct. But some part of it, a part that it did not understand nor had ever cared to, hungered for power. The power that came with being a clan leader. The power that gave it the ability to call its kin to action. The power that gave it the absolute right to command fealty from its clan mates.

_Push him._

An impulse had grabbed hold of the creature. An impulse it had never felt before. It was as though some force, some will beyond his own, had fed this impulse into his brain. It now coursed through his veins, making his muscles twitch and his mind race.  
For the first time, the animal which had always acted on instinct took control of this impulse. He followed it mentally, not physically. Although it did not have language and was incapable of putting words to the sentiment that pulsed through its mind, it understood the impulse acting on its mind on a baser, more chemical level. Push him. Push the alpha. Make the alpha fall. What if I do that? What if…?

Animals did not consider _what if._ Animals did not look ahead, did not contemplate the consequences of their actions. Cause and effect were not a part of their world, but this creature looked at his alpha and pondered, essentially…what if?

A dark force writhed through the creature's mind, a power beyond anything it had ever felt before. It was as though, in that moment, a portion of his mind that had not been accessible to him had opened up, shooting out tendrils of thought. Most of these came to nothing, but one tendril had caught hold and was arching through his consciousness, driving instinct away, forcing him to see something he had never given a thought to before…possibilities. A future that did not simply occur, but one that was planned. Dictated. _Foreseen._

The force that compelled this transformation was not natural. It was spiritual. Sub-spiritual.

Weak, meager, less than vapor, as inconsistent as a Venusian shadow, barely even aware of its own existence, the entity in question had drifted in a state of diluted consciousness for an indeterminable amount of time, only now coming to wrest some form of control over itself.

Over itself… and the creature before it.

As the lesser watched the being that had led his clan for years beyond counting, a possibility revealed itself to him. It gripped him, and drove him to the threshold of his natural capabilities.

He took a step closer. Then another. Slowly, he drew near his leader, watching him in utter fascination. His hand reached out, so close to his alpha's back…

* * *

…The greater turned around and started in mild surprise. The lesser was much closer than it had thought. As it looked down into the lesser's eyes, it was unnerved to see something strange staring back at him. An entity that was not familiar. An intruder. The lesser's eyes widened, its pupils contracted, it blinked…

And the entity was gone.

The greater looked at the hand behind it, so close to its back that the claws nearly brushed its fur, and huffed in mild annoyance. The lesser immediately withdrew the hand and went to sit beside its leader, hunched over, docile, enjoying the warmth of the sun setting on the lush valley that stretched beneath them.

The greater huffed again, then turned its attention to the sky. The sun was setting. They would need to return home soon, or the clan would grow restless. The greater stood, watching as the lesser got to its feet as well. As the pack leader motioned for them to leave, the lesser bristled, and let out a short bark. It seemed to see something in the valley that caught its interest, and it motioned to something far below them, near the base of the cliff. The greater moved closer, eyes narrowing as it searched for what had drawn the younger one's interest.

It was the last move it ever made.

As the greater leaned forward, the lesser's claws dug into the small of its back, propelling the creature off the cliff, screaming in fear and confusion. It writhed and thrashed in an attempt to grab hold of something, anything, to stop the feeling of helplessness gripping its body. There was nothing to grab onto. It fell.

The lesser stood, breathing heavily, entire body trembling in exhilaration, mind writhing with new, dark possibilities. In the back of his mind, the dark entity howled in triumph.

________________________________________

The lesser ran with purpose, padded feet tearing up the dirt and grass below him, wiry muscles taut, triumph fueling his every step. He drew close to the edge of the jungle that marked his clan's home. The clan would be near the clearing, waiting for their leader's return. This is where the lesser ran, darting through the thick foliage and over the dark, snaking roots of the giant trees that surrounded him.

At last he came to the clearing, panting heavily but still alive with energy. His clan was gathered there, eyes widening as they saw his form come crashing into their midst. They looked around in confusion for their leader, and not seeing him, turned their full attention to the lesser.

He stooped for a moment, catching his breath, gathering himself in preparation of the message he was about to relay. When the clan began to growl and whine in confusion, and when he was sure that every eye was on him, he stood fully erect, and began to gesture to his clan. Through body language and simple sounds, the only form of communication their species had developed, he communicated to them the death of their leader.

A hush rushed upon the clearing, broken only by the occasional low whine or moan. The news was devastating. Their greater had led them well for years. He had been a fine leader. Strong. Clever. Resilient. And now he was gone, and without him, fear and dissent would soon follow.

The clan could not exist without a leader for long. The threats they were constantly bombarded with – predators, scavengers, rival clans – would not allow them to. They remained in that initial state of shock long enough for the sun to sink just to the edge of the horizon. Insects flitted about in the fading light and avian creatures flew over the canopy, harsh cries echoing in the dusk.

As the voices of the clan began to quiet and an anxious buzz began to stir, the lesser stood. He let out a low growl, silencing those few who were still lamenting. His growl rose in volume until everyone was staring at him, eyes wide and muscles tense. He stood tall, staring at his clan in the dying light, and with a last, short bark, hunched over and began pounding on the ground with his clenched fists.

He beat a steady rhythm into the earth, eyes half closed, absorbed in his movements. The others knew what was happening. This was a part of their primal nature, how a new leader made itself known to the clan. Their leader beat a rhythm into their lives, and they lived their lives by that rhythm. As the lesser drummed his claim into the earth, some of the younger ones begin to let out low growls, eyes glinting in the growing fervor of the moment. The air was charged, musk and pheromones thick in the breeze. They began to drum their fists in time with the rhythm that was steadily beating itself into their heads, erasing the old one which had dictated their lives for so long. The others joined in, the oldest, the weakest, and those most rooted in the old ways being the last to follow.

At last, the greater stood. The young ones began to howl their approval, but he silenced them with a low bark. The greater surveyed his new clan, and the dark entity once again compelled him to thoughts previously unattainable to him. He looked to the small, the weak, the ones in which he sensed the least potential. He glared at them each in turn, eyes widening, pupils contracting to slits. They cowered beneath his towering figure in fear and confusion, dropping their eyes in deference.

_Dominance._

He turned to the young, virile members of his clan. He snarled at them, then flexed his muscles and bared his fangs. They followed his example, eyes flashing. They reveled in their power.

_Strength._

He raised his clawed hands to the sky, let out an intimidating roar then hunched over and beat a short, powerful, complex rhythm into the ground. He turned to his clan, and implored any who could to copy him. Several fell to the ground, mimicking the intimidating rhythmic gesture in perfect time.

_Excellence._

This was not enough. As his clan mates pledged themselves to him, either out of loyalty or fear, he looked upon them. The dark force writhed through his brain, sending once again that impulse which should have been beyond his grasp. It took hold of him, coursing through his veins and working its way into those parts of his body that were possessed of it. The muscles in his throat tensed in ways he hadn't thought possible. A tongue that had only ever been used for the basest of functions contorted into such strange shapes as he thought his body must be moving of its own accord. And he spoke.

_"Qi'xir."_

As the greater looked to the sky, a new era was beginning on his planet. The era of intelligent life. And where intelligence existed, there existed also a reflection of it. The dark entity which had taken root in the back of the greater's mind swelled with power. The energy emanating from this new, sentient race fueled its return to consciousness and ripped it from the void of existence into which it has been cast so long ago.

Saint Dane had returned.


	2. Solara

As a man fell asleep, thoughts muddled and doubt prevalent, a spirit from Solara flitted into his subconscious.

_Hmmm. Looks like you're having some trouble. Big decision coming up, eh? Let's see what I can do…_

The Solaran spirit that was once Bobby Pendragon contemplated how best to handle this. It was his job to offer perspective and help the people of the territories tackle their problems to the best of their abilities. He didn't influence – that wasn't what he was there for – but he did help them to clear their minds and look at a problem from every possible angle.

He had always been good at telling stories in life, and had taken to using this talent when helping the people of the territories. He sent them dreams. Never anything overt or misleading, just a little something to help them get moving in the right direction – even if their right seemed wrong to him.

_Ok, how to start? Once upon a time? Nah. In a galaxy far, far away? Pfft, who am I kidding, you wouldn't even get that reference. Ok, you've been stressing way too much. What you need is to relax. Maybe a forest? Would you find that relaxing? I would find that relaxing. So long as it wasn't a forest filled with tangs or wolves or quigs—_

He shook himself mentally. Not having a physically body, that was really the only way he could shake himself. Either way, he did not want to go in that direction again. Quigs. Ugh.

_Ok, ok, what was I doing? Right. Forest._

In his dream the man felt young. Confident. He walked between giant trees that stretched into the clouds. As an ex-hiker, the atmosphere both relaxed and excited him, and as he began his trek, he left his doubts behind him.

_Now that's what I'm talking about! Ok, how to build on this. Confidence is good. Maybe I can—_

_…Bobby?_

A spirit from Solara was trying to contact him. Seriously? He had one job in the whole of existence, and whatever this spirit wanted couldn't wait until he finished it? They literally had all the time in the world! All the time in every world! Forever!

_Uhhhh, I'm a little busy right now._

The spirit was insistent.

_It's important. We need to talk._

The spirit named Bobby Pendragon sighed. Mentally. Obviously.

_Look, I'm just going to go ahead and finish up this dream here. I have a really good idea about bolstering this dude's confidence by sending him on this—_

The foreign spirit interjected.

_I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important._

This made Bobby cringe. Mentally. He had heard that line before. Nothing good had followed it. He knew that his anxiety was most likely unfounded, but hearing the words still brought back memories - memories he had tried exceptionally hard to put behind him.

_On my way._

As the spirits drew away, back to their own ethereal realm, the man awoke with a start, not quite sure of what was happening. He did remember some of his dream though. He had been hiking.

The man yawned, then muttered, "Maybe I really should take a hike. It might help me clear my head at least. Maybe head up to Mount Kaija. Yeah, that's the way to go…" He trailed off, and quickly fell back asleep.

* * *

Bobby drifted across the incorporeal line that seemed to separate Solara from everywhere else.

_Ok, what's up?_

The spirit seemed a bit tense. That wasn't good. Normally he was as cool as a cucumber. The only time Bobby had ever seen him worried was when the entire universe – ahem, every universe – had been on the verge of total collapse.

_Come on. Let's sit down for a couple of minutes._

The spirits of Solara almost never took on corporeal form. They had no need for physical bodies, since the only reason they would really need them would be to interact with other physical beings, i.e. the people of the territories. And they did not interfere with the people of the territories. At least, not directly. Still, it wasn't really harmful to take on a physical form in Solara. There weren't exactly people running around, waiting to be influenced. Solara existed as the realm in which the spirits of all intelligent beings could come together. It was like a sort of celestial crossroads from which all physical matter and spiritual guidance came.

It was here that Bobby Pendragon's spirit resided, as well as the spirits of everyone else who had ever existed.

As Bobby coalesced into the form that he had become most familiar with, a young man with messy brown hair and dark brown eyes, he saw another being drift into existence beside him.

"Hey Uncle Press. Long time no see." said Bobby. It was true. Although they often communicated via whatever psychic, spiritual connection all spirits shares, they hadn't had any occasion to use the physical bodies that they had become accustomed to years ago.

"Hey kid," he said, grinning. Uncle Press was a relaxed kind of guy. Normally. Not now, which kind of brought them to the point of their conversation.

Bobby shifted a bit uncomfortably. The place they had come to talk was nice – rolling green meadows as far as the eye could see. As relaxing as it was, the fact that they were there at all was what put Bobby on edge. "So…what's up?" he asked. He felt like he was about to be told that the trip to Disneyland that he had been waiting all year for had just been cancelled. Or that there was trouble brewing that could potentially be on par with the near-disaster that had almost destroyed sentient life as they knew it an indefinite amount of time ago. Since the chances of it being the Disneyland thing were pretty slim, Bobby was anxious to hear what had gotten his Uncle Press so worked up.

"Well, I sensed something strange while I was communing with the forces of intelligent life from the territories." (It was something that spirits did.) "When I went to take a closer look at what it was, I felt something…blocking me. It was as though some force had put up a wall, stopping me from looking into what had caused the disturbance." He seemed perturbed by the memory of it, and Bobby could see why. There wasn't supposed to be anywhere that the spirits of Solara weren't able to go. The entirety of existence was supposed to be open to them. Anywhere intelligent life existed, they thrived. As the sentient races flung their thoughts out to what lay beyond them, into the depths of space and down the threads of time, the spirits of Solara followed those thoughts, and in that way the origins of the universe were made known to them.

Uncle Press continued, "I managed to get around the force and take a look at whatever it was that I had felt, and I discovered something…intense. Something that should never have been hidden from us. The fact that it was is beyond my comprehension. We should have known about it from the very start…" He trailed off, concern flashing in his eyes, foot tapping in agitation. Whatever it was, it had gotten him _very_ worked up.

"What?" Bobby demanded. "What in the world could possibly be so important that someone would feel the need to hide it from us? And who the heck is 'someone' anyways?" There really shouldn't have been anyone _capable_ of hiding anything from them. Solara was once again united. The dark reflection that used to be had ceased to exist. There was no one else out there, _nothing_ else out there.

Uncle Press paused before continuing. He took a deep breath, then said, "A new sentient race has evolved."

Bobby blinked. Whoa. He had _not_ been expecting that. Well, he hadn't really been expecting anything. He hadn't known what to expect. But if he'd had expectations, a new sentient race wouldn't have been one of them. "But that's good, isn't it?" He said, "I mean, yeah, it sucks that it's been hiding from us, but new sentient life means…uhh…well, I'm not exactly sure what it means, but it can't hurt, right?" Bobby honestly had no idea how to process this new information. In fact, he was pretty confused that there even _was_ new information. Since Halla was everything that ever was or would be, he thought that any sentient race that would ever evolve would have already been a part of it…or something. Man, he may have been an all-seeing, millennia-old spirit of Solara, but sometimes this stuff still made is head hurt. Mentally. Kind of. Oh, whatever.

Uncle Press frowned and said, "That's the thing. It wasn't hiding from us, it was _being hidden._ And besides, it's not only what I didn't find that bothered me, it's what I did find as well." His brow furrowed slightly. He continued, "What I expected to find was a new, primitive race, not much more advanced than, say, the Milago on Denduron. Instead, it's apparent that this race has existed for hundreds, if not thousands of years longer than that. I still don't know how long they've been around, but they're obviously more advanced than they should be. With the kind of society they've built, their intelligence should have been flooding Solara for centuries. Instead, they've evolved on their own, completely cut off from us." He finished speaking, and looked to Bobby for his opinion.

Bobby was stunned. He wanted to help, but he didn't understand any more than Uncle Press did. Instead of offering a suggestion, he decided to mine for more information. "So what kind of people are they? Humans? Klees? Gar?"

"They call themselves the 'Qi'xir', and the planet is called the same. They aren't human, or even very close to it. They look like…well… you'd kind of have to see them for yourself."

Bobby considered that. "Ok, well then, let's go check it out."

Press looked at him. "There's more," he said flatly.

Bobby, who had been getting ready to go all spiritual-floaty-cloud-of-light, paused and said, "Oh. Right. Such as?" He had been so excited to go check out this new race that he realized the information he'd heard thus far didn't add up to Press's anxiety. I mean, sure, it was odd that there was a new sentient race, and it was _definitely_ suspicious that it was being hidden from them, but that wasn't enough to make Uncle Press act the way he was.

He began, "Every sentient species that has ever existed has had its ups and downs. Periods of war and periods of peace. Strife and plenty. Freedom and authoritarianism. Dictatorships give way to democracies, which give way to socialism and communism, then a revolution occurs, and the circle restarts until the people evolve past that. The point is, there's a balance. But on Qi'xir…" he trailed off.

Bobby felt uneasy. "On Qi'xir?" he prompted.

Uncle Press continued. "On Qi'xir it looks like they've evolved in a state constant dictatorship. There has been a hierarchy in place since their society began. They value strength and excellence and punish those that they feel are beneath them. People are given a role in society from the day they are born, and no one strays from their given path. Their destinies are handed to them, and no one who has tried to fight against it has ever succeeded. Freedom is virtually nonexistent. They have art and literature, beauty and comfort; in short, they have spirit, but their spirit is…" he paused again, looking slightly dismayed.

"Bobby, their society reminds me of Ravinia."

That hit him like a blow to the stomach. There was no way, right? Ravinia was dead and gone. The territories had moved past that point in time, chosen free will, and been put back on their rightful paths. That was the way it was meant to be. How could an entire territory have evolved that way? The only reason Ravinia had ever existed in the first place was because of—

_No. That's not possible. He's gone. I saw it myself. I watched his spirit end._

"So you think that maybe – some spirit – could have started guiding this territory, and maybe that spirit managed to keep it isolated from Solara?" Bobby intentionally avoided saying the name that was on both of their minds. There was no point dwelling on it. He was gone, and he wasn't coming back. This was just someone that thought the same way as him, maybe one of the spirits that reunited with Solara after the fall of…that other Solara.

_The one created by—_

Uncle Press nodded. "I think that's a very likely possibility. As I was trying to gauge what had led them to evolve that way, another force found me – the one that had been trying to keep me out in the first place - and chased me off. It reminded me of the spirits who joined the other Solara; dark, negative reflections of ourselves, feeding off of the kind of energy that the Qi'xir seem to generate."

Bobby gulped. "Well, the only way to know what we're up against is to go check it out ourselves." He said this with a bravado he wasn't entirely sure he actually felt. The idea that there might be another force coming to power that could cause some real trouble scared him. He was remembering all too clearly the war they had fought, and almost lost, all those years ago. Presumably years. Time was pretty much irrelevant once you became a spirit. The point is, it had happened really, really long ago.

Bobby thought wistfully back on that dream he had been making. His spiritual existence was nothing like his physical one. It went so far beyond his old life that there wasn't much point in describing it; but one thing he did know was that it was purposeful. His actions had meaning. He helped people. He had always been the type of person who would help a person in need, and that was exactly what he was doing here. As he drifted into the energetic cloud of indefinable spiritual matter that he had become accustomed to being, he sighed. Mentally, of course.

_Things can never just stay simple, can they?_


	3. Reunion

Bobby's spirit shot over the vast, ever-changing landscape of Solara.

Below him, seemingly endless green fields would suddenly become rolling sand dunes, with intricate, pyramid-like structures dotting the surface. It would just as soon become dense, bright green jungle, then all at once it would appear as though they were gliding through an ocean, an infinite, brightly colored coral reef stretching out as far as the eye could see. Spirits of Solara zipped past him this way and that, on their way to their own mysterious destinations. Probably not as mysterious as the one he and Press were headed towards, though.

As they passed over a colossal sea-trench, a bright yellow cloud of energy shot past them. It wheeled around, did a loop-de-loop, then dive bombed them.

_Whoooo! Hobey-ho, mates, what brings you here?_

The spirit of Vo Spader came to glide beside Uncle Press, ethereal form crackling with positive energy.

Spirits in Solara were not really limited in their interactions with one another. If you were looking for someone, it wouldn't be long before you found them. For that reason, Bobby was able to easily maintain contact with all of the friends he had made as a Traveler, and Spader most definitely fell into that category. Bobby, though glad to see him, sighed. _Unfortunately, nothing good. We're on our way to check it out now._

Spader's spirit sparked with confusion.

_Sounds natty, mate. Why don't you fill me in on the way there?_

The landscape changed yet again as they flew, this time taking on a breathtaking orange hue. Vast, rocky canyons consisting of every color between yellow and red stretched without limit, a strange contrast with the largely dark and starry sky. Press and Bobby both filled Spader in on their way to the strange, new world they sought to investigate. As they grew closer to their destination, somewhere on the brink of the Solara that they knew, the clouds of light and energy became fewer and farther between. The spirit of mankind seemed thin out here, like the supply of oxygen in an atmosphere that was thinning with altitude.

_Hobey. That doesn't sound good at all. Still, can't wait to see this new territory of yours. Sounds like these Qi'xir could use a little help, courtesy of Vo Spader!_

The other two winced. Spader meant well, and he was an absolute beacon of positive energy in Solara, but he occasionally got a bit overenthusiastic with his job. It wasn't as though he was _trying_ to influence the people of the territories, but occasionally he would get a bit carried away. Sort of like an overzealous art teacher who looks at a student's work, says, "Hey! I love it! But what if you do this? No, no, not like that…here, let me show you what I mean!" and then ends up taking over the project entirely and making it pretty much unrecognizable. On the one hand, the kid usually got an A+. On the other hand, no one really thought it was his artwork.

As they drew closer to the edge of Solara, something disturbing came into view. It looked like a wall of mist, wisps of smoke curling around the edge of a gaping void. The three of them felt a bit uneasy at the sight, though Uncle Press, having seen what was beyond it, was most anxious of them all. Reluctantly, he drew his attention back to Spader.

_We're just going for reconnaissance, Spader. We're not going to try to 'fix' the territory, just look for a way to get the spirits who are controlling it to relinquish their grasp. Once that's done, the territory can begin to take its own shape._

Uncle Press knew what he was doing. At least, as much as anyone in this situation could. As they neared their destination, though, Spader seemed disappointed. They drew closer to the border that seemed to mark the end of Solara and the beginning of…whatever else was out there. Spader tried to reiterate his point.

_Well, yeah, absolutely! But what if they need just a little shove in the right direction? Nothing too big, just the normal spirit stuff, maybe –_

Spader was abruptly cut off as the space in front of him rippled, then exploded outward. It was as though a swarm of angry bees had suddenly come rushing out of a hive. Dark matter swirled in a sinister murmuration, blocking their passage and rippling ominously. The three spirits drew closer together, not knowing what to expect. What was this stuff? Should they run? Fight? Try to go around? Charge right into it?

_Uhhh, Uncle Press? Is that normal?_

The first time Press had been here, he had been able to make it past the border without drawing attention to himself. Even when he’d been forced to flee, he hadn't gotten a glimpse of what had been chasing him.

_No idea. I've never seen anything like it before._

The substance seemed to have a certain control of itself, or else it was being controlled by some intelligent force. At last, something sparked in Bobby's memory. He was perhaps the only spirit in Solara that had seen anything like this before.

_…Wait. I have. They're spirits._

The other two glanced at him in confusion.

_I've seen something like that before. In the final battle against Saint Dane, I kept getting knocked back into some dark, twisted reflection of Solara. His version of Solara. I saw things like that shooting around. It had looked like they were cheering him on._

They all recognized that that was the first time they had heard that name in a long time. So much had been lost during that time, and so much more had been at stake. They mostly tried not to talk about it. It was better that way.

The formation of dark spirits seethed around in front of them, then drew together into a sort of funnel. It flew down to the hard ground below them, and stabilized there, almost inviting the three spirits above to come take a closer look. It looked like a small, localized tornado of dark energy. They hesitated, but whatever the spirits wanted, they didn't seem to be immediately dangerous.

Bobby was the first to land, taking on corporeal form. Press and Spader landed a few feet behind him, doing the same. As the dense funnel of spirits continued to swirl, Bobby could have sword he saw something within their depths. A dark figure seemed to be standing in the storm.

Before he could say anything, the figure took on a more defined shape, as if making a move to emerge. Bobby had a strange sense of dread which he couldn't quite pin down. Ok, yeah, the dark, seething mass of negative spirit swirling around in front of them was pretty dreadful; but his feelings went beyond that. It was like watching a horrible train wreck on T.V., then getting the sudden, awful premonition that someone you knew had been on the train. As the figure continued to grow more defined, Bobby could have sworn he saw something flicker in the dark storm. A flash of blue. He looked closer as the figure began to emerge. It looked to be a human, standing nearly seven feet tall. It was still just shielded from their view, as though through a thin layer of gauze. At last, it seemed to gather itself, and all at once strode into the sight.

Bobby's mouth went dry. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach. It was impossible. _It couldn't be possible._ But it was. The proof of it was staring him in the face, icy blue eyes darting first to Press, then to Spader, and finally locking onto him. Although a spirit of Solara could take on any shape it wanted, this particular spirit could have taken on any shape imaginable, and Bobby still would have recognized him.

Saint Dane gave a feral grin, and then said, "It's been a long time. Did you miss me, Pendragon?"

He looked similar to the day Bobby had first seem him. Cold, piercing blue eyes; seven feet tall, or near that; long black coat, and a suit that looked vaguely Asian; the only difference was that he didn't look quite as old. His hair was jet black, and he looked at least ten years younger that he had that first day in the subway.

Bobby could only stand, paralyzed by shock; the demon that had haunted his dreams ever since his brief stay on Earth, the demon he had defeated a lifetime ago, the demon that by all rights should not exist, merely stood, seeming to enjoy the impact his appearance had caused. Bobby stared, rooted to the spot by equal parts dread and disbelief.

Saint Dane feigned disappointment. "Apparently not." he said, eyes flicking once again to Press, and then to Spader. "I see you brought a welcoming committee. Pray tell, where are the other Travelers?" He looked around in mock surprise, as though expecting them to suddenly appear. "Surely, after all the good times we shared, they would wish to come bid me welcome back?"

Bobby groped for words, still somewhat shell shocked, and managed to force out part of a question. "How…you…how did you…?"

Saint Dane glanced at him disdainfully, and then began walking slowly around the clearing. "How did I return? Well, that is an interesting question. I put it to you: can something come back if it was never truly gone to begin with?" He paused, looking again to Pendragon and largely ignoring the other two travelers that stood behind him. Press and Spader were not handling this new revelation much better than Bobby. Spader was staring openmouthed, and Press was looking slightly ill; they were both starting to recover, however, as was Bobby.

Bobby looked at Saint Dane, still trying to accept that what he was seeing was real. "But…you were gone. I saw your spirit end! I was the one who—"

He was cut off abruptly by Saint Dane. "You were the one who what?" the demon hissed. "Killed me?" His eyes had changed to lightning white, rage flickering in their depths. "Did you believe me dead? Did you go on to lead the rest of your happy little life, believing me no longer a threat?" He glared at Bobby, who had become tense at the demon's outburst. At last, Bobby regained his balance, and replied to Saint Dane in an even tone.

"Yes."

Saint Dane blinked, and his eyes returned to their normal, cold blue. "I suspected as much," he said, his voice level but dripping with malice. "After my fall, I was certainly in no fit state to cause you any further trouble. However," he said, eyes dropping to his hands, sweeping briefly over his new corporeal form, "That is no longer the case, as you can clearly see."

Press had regained his composure, and Spader, no longer staring in openmouthed shock, was trembling with anger. Bobby narrowed his eyes at the demon and asked a short, simple question. "Why are you here?" He wasn't interested in how Saint Dane had returned, at least not at the moment. What he wanted was to know what was in store for him. For all of them. For Halla. For Solara.

Saint Dane paused for a moment, thinking. He seemed to become momentarily absorbed in his memories, eyes looking to something miles and eons away. At last he looked to Bobby, and then let out a tired sigh. "What do you want to hear from me, Pendragon? That I have seen the error of my ways? That I want only the chance to redeem myself for my misdeeds? Do you expect me to drop to my knees, and beg for mercy as I did so long ago? A plea which fell upon deaf ears, might I add."

Bobby tried not to flinch at the memory. Although it had marked the end of the most painful years of his existence, and was a triumph in the history of Solara, it was by no means a pleasant reminiscence. He had held no pity for the demon; he still did not. Nonetheless, hearing it phrased so bluntly was uncomfortable to say the least. He steeled himself, then glared at Saint Dane as he replied, "As nice as that would be, I guess that's not going to happen." He watched Saint Dane carefully to see what his response would be.

_He has to know that after all that happened, he doesn't stand a chance against the positive spirit of Solara. Heck, it's a miracle he even still exists! What could possibly make him think he's strong enough to fight another war? He can't seriously suggest that he's going go through all of that again?_

"I want to watch you die. All of you."

 _Ok,_ relented Bobby. _Maybe he can._

Saint Dane turned his cold, hard gaze on the three Travelers. "I want to do to you all that you did to me. I want you to feel the feelings of utter defeat that I did. I want to watch as your spirits are snuffed out, one by one. I want revenge, Pendragon. And I will not be denied." The dark spirits of Solara surged behind him, a storm of rage, strength, pride, and dominance. It rippled and flexed as the three Travelers watched it, and seemed to grow as Saint Dane let his emotions pour out of him through the words he spoke.

It finally dawned on them the enormity of the situation at hand. Saint Dane was back. He was angry. He wanted revenge. _Most of all,_ they realized as they watched the roiling storm of spirits writhe in the air behind him, basking in the power he emitted and in turn feeding him their own…

_He had the power to get it._

Saint Dane smirked as he looked to the sky behind the Travelers. Streaks of light and color were hurtling towards them, spirits coming to investigate the disturbance they had felt. "It would appear that we have some company. Never mind. I have made my point. I suspect that we will meet again, Pendragon; hopefully before too much time has passed." With that Saint Dane turned and began to walk into the mass of spirits before him.

Finally, Bobby dismissed the last of the dread that had been weighing him down, allowing his anger to return and his defiance to spark.

"We won't let that happen, Saint Dane!" Bobby shouted at the retreating figure of his enemy. "We beat you once. What makes you think we can't do it again?"

Saint Dane merely glanced back over his shoulder as he began to dissipate in the storm. "Suppose that you do? What's to stop me from returning once more? I will not stop hounding you, Pendragon. Not until the last light of Solara has been _snuffed out."_

And with that he was gone, he and his spirits disappearing into the great wall of mist as suddenly as they had come. Press, Spader and Bobby stood, staring after him until the spirits that had come to investigate the disturbance swirled around their heads, pulling them back into the moment.

Press sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked at the other two. "Well?"

Spader looked too shaken to say anything. Bobby looked back at them, and then glanced up at the spirits flying overhead. He said, "I think we need to let everyone know what's up."

This got through to Spader. He looked at Bobby, raising his eyebrows. "And by everyone I take it you mean…?" He trailed off. The three were already starting to dissipate back into their spiritual forms.

"Yup," Bobby said, as he resumed his natural state.

_Let's go find the other Travelers._

Spader's spirit drifted up to float beside Bobby and Press'. As deep as his hatred for Saint Dane ran, Vo Spader would never say no to a good adventure. _Hobey ho, mate?_

Bobby shot off over the ever-shifting landscape of Solara, readying himself for the task at hand.

_Hobey ho, let's go._


	4. Game Plan

Aja Killian stood in the mental classroom of an aspiring student from Veelox. As the boy dreamed, Aja did her best to challenge the boy's intelligence, and in doing so helped him to gauge his own abilities.

"The oxidation number for Sulfur in the compound H2SO4 is?"

"Plus six!"

Aja had taken on a form that she sense the boy would be most comfortable with – that of his first year chemistry teacher, Professor Uva. She stood in front of a holoboard drilling him with question after question, testing him with problems just difficult enough to get his mind working, but reasonable enough that he was able to manage the answer on his own. Most of the time.

Aja pointed to another formula on the board and said, "And the oxidation number for Hydrogen in H2O2?"

After a slight pause, the boy answered. "Plus two!"

Aja stopped and raised an eyebrow at the boy. "So you're saying that hydrogen gives away two electrons to attain electro-neutrality?" She inquired.

"Uhhh…yes?" The boy's brow furrowed in confusion.

Aja tapped on the representation of the periodic table, not very different from the one found on Earth. "And how many electrons does Hydrogen have to give away?"

The boy looked at the board, then facepalmed. "Err…one."

"So hydrogen gives away two of its _electron."_

"…"

She sighed. _"What_ is the oxidation number for Hydrogen in H2O2?"

The boy thought for a moment. "Plus one," he replied, then hastily added, "but oxygen only maintains a minus one charge!"

Aja smiled slightly. She had been keeping an eye on this boy for a while now, watching as he developed the skills to come to answers like that on his own. She never taught him a thing, merely acted as a vessel the boy could use to teach himself.

Aja was about to continue on with the drill, when she sensed that someone else was present. Another spirit from Solara.

_Hey Aja. You know you aren't supposed to be tutoring this kid, right?_

"Pendragon!" She exclaimed, "What are you—" She cut off when she realized the kid was staring, confused at her sudden outburst. She sighed, then sent off a mental reply to her friend.

_I'm not teaching him anything. He already knew the answer. What are you doing here? Come for a chemistry lesson?_

Bobby's spirit cringed. Solaran spirit or no, he hated chemistry.

_Not exactly. There's trouble, Aja. We need to talk. Now._

Aja paused, then nodded. She turned to the boy who would one day become one of the greatest chemists on Veelox, and gave him a slight smile. "I think that's enough for today. You're one of my best students; you'll do fine on your next test."

The boy blinked, still a bit confused. This wasn't normally how his tutoring dreams turned out. He was usually plagued with insecurity, a trait brought out by some of his more demanding teachers. His dreams tended to reflect that, and he found it a surprising relief to hear that small vote of confidence. As his teacher walked out of the room, his dreams lost focus, and he drifted away.

_Well, Pendragon? What's got you worried enough to risk getting dragged into one of my tutoring sessions?_

The two spirits passed back into Solara, Aja following closely behind the lead Traveler. _Ex lead Traveler,_ she reminded herself. It had been a long time since she had called him that.

_I'll tell you once I've gathered the others. I'm going to grab Siry. Press should be getting Loor and Gunny; Spader went off to find the others._

Aja was concerned. What in Halla could possibly be so important that it demanded the presence of all of the Travelers?

_Got it. I think I can sense where they're gathering – I'll head over there now._

Unease crept up on her, but more prevalent was her curiosity. Still, she trusted that her questions would be answered soon enough, so she split off from Bobby and made her way towards the beacon of positive energy she felt gathering elsewhere in Solara.

_See you in a bit._

Bobby had already called on Kasha and Alder, and had also taken the liberty of calling on some of the acolytes. They may not have been Travelers, but they were every bit as involved in this as the rest of them were. They had the right to know that Saint Dane was back. With that grim thought in mind, he went off to find the last Traveler on his agenda.

* * *

As Bobby drifted into the yet another dream, he found himself on a brightly colored ship sailing across a seemingly endless ocean. He looked around and saw a number of crewmen hard at work, and a small boy who couldn't be older than six at the wheel. It was the boy's dream, and in it he was sailing the first ship of the Ibaran fleet into the unknown waters of Veelox, off to explore the vast, mysterious territory.

As Bobby looked around for his query, one of the crew members walked up behind him and said, "What do you think you're doing here? You don't look like you belong on this ship."

Bobby smiled and turned around. Siry stood there in crewman's grab, grinning cockily at him.

"Hey Siry. Smooth sailing I hope?" Bobby knew why Siry would want to be here. It had been his dream to sail a ship like this into the unknown of his territory. The boy at the wheel undoubtedly possessed the same spirit that had driven Siry to do just that. Bobby sincerely hoped that the boy would reach his goals – and that things would turn out better than they had for the Traveler from Ibara.

"Nothing but. This kid reminds me a lot of how I was at his age. He's going to do some great things – especially now that the territories are back on track. So, what brings you here?"

Bobby winced. At the rate things were going, this poor kid might be facing just as much hardship as Siry had in the years to come. "Something big has come up. The Travelers are gathering to discuss it. We need you."

Siry glanced at him in confusion, and then said, "That doesn't sound good. Alright, let's take off. But first…"

He walked up to the boy at the wheel. He stood like a crewman giving a report to his captain. "The ship is well under way captain. Seas look good, and the wind is with us. I imagine we'll be seeing the far coast in no time." The boy looked up at him in wonder, then nodded. He looked excited, but also a little nervous. Siry smiled at him and said, "You're going to blaze the trail into an incredible world, captain. All of Veelox will be yours to re-discover. You just have to keep moving forward."

With this Siry began to walk off, slowly vanishing into thin air as the boy watched him. He stared for a moment, then looked back out to sea. He smiled once more, ready to see what the world had in store for him. Bobby felt his heart sink. If Saint Dane had his way, this young, adventurous boy would never see that world. He may never even get the chance to truly know his own.

Bobby faded out of the dream as well, and with Siry in tow, they started off towards the gathering.

________________________________________

"Well Pendragon? What has happened that is so urgent as to require all of us to gather here?" Kasha stared at him, arms crossed, looking expectant. She stood tall and proud, short black fur sleek and smooth, claws sheathed.

Gunny spoke up as well. "Yeah, Shorty. What's going on here? The last time we all gathered up like this, all of Halla was about to topple in on itself."

Pendragon looked around at the band of spirits before him. Most of them, the Travelers, had taken on physical form. There were others who remained as spirits – acolytes, first generation Travelers, and individuals who had taken on the role of family to the second generation Travelers when their first journey had begun. There was Aja Killian, from Veelox. Siry, from Ibara, the future of Aja's territory. Kasha, from Eelong. Elli Winter, first traveler from Quillan. Alder, from Denduron. Vo Spader, from Cloral. Loor, from Zaada. Gunny, from First Earth. Patrick Mac, from Third Earth. And him. Bobby. Traveler from Second Earth.

All of the Earth territories were one now, of course, as were the territories of Veelox and Ibara. There was no longer any reason to separate them by their times – the turning points had ceased to exist. Bobby wondered, with dread, how much longer that would be the case. As he looked around at the circle of Travelers, he wondered how best to tell them that all of Halla was about to be put into jeopardy again. He thought about beating around the bush, but then he saw Aja glaring at him, tapping her foot. He decided on the bandage method.

"Saint Dane is back."

The reaction was immediate. There were shouts of disbelief from several of the Travelers. Some simply stood, looking like they had taken a brick to the face. Kasha's fur bristled, and she let out a low growl.

Only Loor remained calm. She stepped forward, waiting for the others to calm down. Then she said, "Tell us how you know this, Pendragon."

Bobby paused, and then went on to explain everything he, Uncle Press, and Spader had seen. He told them about the new territory, the Qi'xir, Saint Dane's power, and then finally about his threat. The other Travelers looked on in dismay and disbelief. How could this have happened? Surely all of this was supposed to be over?

Uncle Press stepped forward and said, "I know this is difficult. But many of you were present the last time we had a discussion like this. When Saint Dane made his intentions known the first time, several of you were present to discuss how it would be handled."

A few of the Travelers in the circle nodded, Bobby included. They had made the decision to combat Saint Dane the first time, opting to be reborn as physical beings with no memories of their spiritual lives in order to bring the fight to him.

Patrick, one of those who hadn't been present but had merely consented to the task when it was asked of him, said a bit nervously, "So…do you believe that we should do it again? Take on physical form to fight against Saint Dane once more? If he decides to take the same approach as last time, that is."

Aja intervened. "That would be idiocy! Saint Dane knows full well that his plan didn't work. I can't believe that he would attempt it again. He would be a fool to try."

Uncle Press was the first to respond. "He may not have succeeded the first time, but you forget; he will have the knowledge of his past mistakes to guide him this time. He won't make the same ones again. The Travelers, on the other hand, would not have the same advantage."

"Why not?" Spader interjected, "Why can't we just go back with the knowledge of how to beat him? We were able to do it the first time, why should we give that all up? We can start out with the same advantages that natty demon has!"

Press sighed. "That's not the point, Spader. The whole goal of sending you back the first time with no memories of Solara was to make you one with the territories you were sent to protect. It's crucial that Solara does not fight this battle directly – that would involve direct interference, and therefore betray our own ideals that the territories should be allowed to exist independently."

Spader was about to argue, when Bobby interrupted. "No, Spader, he has a point. Saint Dane always told me that this was a battle of philosophies. To drop to his level is merely to concede our own point. If we send Travelers to fight him, they can't know about Solara."

Spader still looked uncertain, but he nodded in acceptance. The other Travelers murmured their agreement as well. "So what do we do?" Siry asked.

"We fight."

Two new spirits had joined the circle. Courtney Chetwynde, followed closely by Mark Dimond, coalesced into their physical forms and went to stand beside Bobby. He turned to look at them, smiling. "I was wondering when you two would show up."

Mark grinned sheepishly at his best friend. Even with the unlimited knowledge and wisdom of Solara at his command, he was still the same old Mark. They both appeared as they had been before the war had taken its toll on them; before they had been sucked into the flume in the Bronx.

"Like we would leave you to figure this out on your own. We were always in this together – what makes you think we would ditch out on you now?" Mark said, as Courtney looked around the circle at all of the Travelers. Gunny smiled at her, and Spader threw her a wink.

Alder voiced his opinion. "I believe Courtney is right. I do not see any other option. Saint Dane cannot win without influencing the territories, and to do that he needs a physical form. We cannot allow him to do as he will to the territories. We should fight." The Travelers all nodded in agreement.

Bobby nodded as well. "I agree, but one thing is bugging me. We all know what Saint Dane is capable of. Like Spader said, we know how it played out the first time. If we return to the territories to take up the roll of Travelers again, we lose that know-how."

"So what are you proposing, Shorty?" Gunny inquired. The other Travelers looked somewhat confused as well.

"Well…and don't flip out on me when I say this. I think that we should send different spirits back to become Travelers."

The reaction was almost as violent as when he had told them Saint Dane was back. There were immediately sounds of protest and argument. Bobby winced. He figured they would take it that way. To his surprise, the one person he thought would object the most strongly to their staying out of the fight stepped forward…and defended him.

Loor held up her hand to quiet the others. "I believe Pendragon is right. Our knowledge of Saint Dane is invaluable, even if we cannot use it directly. We should send others to the territories while we maintain a watch over Solara."

Aja thought for a moment, eyes narrowed, then nodded. "I agree. As much as I would like another shot at that bastard, we best way for us to do that is to keep our knowledge on reserve. A sort of last resort."

Bobby sighed in relief. At least two of the Travelers were with him, and as he watched the others debate, he saw that his idea was winning out. The only one who was still strongly against the idea was Spader.

"Hobey mate, I see what you're saying, but how do you expect us to just sit and watch while Saint Dane is turning the territories into his own personal habitats?"

Before Bobby could respond, Mark stepped forward. "Maybe you don't have to. Not entirely, anyway." Bobby looked at him in confusion as he continued, "You each had spirits from Solara as your mentors to introduce you to the whole Traveler thing, right? What if each of the Travelers from the first war mentors the Traveler who is going to take their place?"

Bobby raised his eyebrows. He hadn't thought of that. As he looked around the circle, he saw that the other Travelers liked the idea. Spader still looked hesitant, but at least he wasn't on the verge of going commando. Bobby thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Sounds like a plan. We find new spirits to take our place, send them back as travelers, mentor them until…" He had just recalled the way every single one of the first generation Travelers had 'returned' to Solara, and judging by the looks of the others, they had as well. "…Until we aren't needed anymore, then we watch from Solara until we're needed again."

Spader looked to be on the verge of saying something, but decided against it. The other Travelers nodded in agreement. It looked like things were settled. As they all started thinking towards which spirits would take their places, Press stepped forward.

He had been silent for the last several minutes, deep in thought. He seemed to be contemplating his own ideas, and was now wondering how best to voice them. Bobby caught on that something was troubling him. "Uncle Press? What are you thinking?"

Press sighed, and then decided that he needed to make his concerns known. "I think your plan sounds like a good one, but there's one thing we haven't talked about yet. When Saint Dane was retreating back into the other Solara, Bobby asked him what made him so confident that we wouldn't beat him again. He said, 'Suppose that you do, Pendragon? What's to stop me from returning once more?'" Bobby nodded in confirmation. He had been trying to focus on the task at hand, because he didn't want to think about the implications of Saint Dane's threat. "He said that he wouldn't stop until the last light of Solara has been snuffed out. We thought he had disappeared forever the first time we beat him, but now we see that isn't the case. What is to stop him from returning again, even if we do beat him this time? And again? And again?"

By now the other Travelers were looking at each other in dismay. Could this really be their fate? To wage endless war against Saint Dane and the darkness of humanity? The first battle had come so close that the slightest push could have toppled Solara. Uncle Press continued, "Saint Dane will be better prepared this time than he ever was; and if he loses again, his defeat will only make him that much harder to beat next time. Eventually, if we keep going on like this…Solara will fall."

That made the circle grow quiet. Finally, Aja spoke up. "So what do you propose we do?" The others looked at Press expectantly.

He sighed. This was going to be a tough sell. Hell, even _he_ had his doubts. But it was the only thing he could think of. He took a deep breath, then said, "If we can't beat him, we'll have to change him. Make him see that his way of thinking is wrong. Convince him to stop attacking us, and leave the territories in peace."

The others stared at him in utter disbelief. Bobby was the first to voice his doubt. Actually, doubt wasn't a strong enough word. Complete and total denial…would still be a bit optimistic. "Uhhh. Okay…not to burst your bubble, Uncle Press, but that…is…" He trailed off, not entirely sure how to say what he really thought about the idea without sounding extraordinarily disrespectful.

"The worst idea I've ever heard!" Courtney exclaimed, looking at Press as though he had just recommended that they all head over to dark Solara singing 'Kumbaya' and use the power of friendship to defeat the demon.

Both Bobby and Press winced; Bobby because she was being so blunt, and Press because he knew she had a point. The other Travelers were either looking at him doubtfully, or avoiding eye contact altogether. Press paused, collecting his thoughts. "I know what you're thinking—"

Courtney cut in. "Yeah, we're thinking that Saint Dane is an evil, sadistic, power hungry madman! You can't negotiate with people like that!"

"I understand," Press replied evenly. "Most of what you say is true; but I don't think he's beyond reason." Courtney looked like she was going to object again, but Bobby put a hand on her shoulder, silencing her. As doubtful as he was about Press's claim, he respected the man enough to hear him out.

"Bobby," Press continued, "when you confronted Saint Dane for the final time, you said that he seemed more uncertain of his position than ever. Some of what you said – about the dados, about his followers, about his philosophy as a whole – some of it got through it him." Bobby nodded, looking uncomfortable. Press went on. "And right at the end, he even conceded that he was weak. Corrupt. He admitted that he had made mistakes. He may have been grasping at straws, but do you really believe that everything he said was a lie? Merely an attempt to cling to life?"

Bobby dropped his head, thinking. Then he sighed, and said, "No. I know that on some level he believed what he was saying. Maybe he still does. But even if that is the case, that's not going to help us much. This isn't just about philosophies anymore; we fought him, and won. When he asked for mercy, we denied him. He hates us for that, Press. He wants revenge."

Press nodded in agreement. "I won't deny that that is true, but let's look at it this way. One, he wants Halla to fall under his influence. However, as power-hungry as he may be, I don't believe that he will base this battle off of that again." The other Travelers nodded. "Which brings us to the second point: he wants revenge. He hates us. He knows that the best way to defeat us will be to prove us wrong; to that end, one of his goals will be to instate his beliefs as gospel, and leave no room for our own, and by extension, no room for us." Again, the Travelers nodded.

"So, if we were to follow my plan and convince him to cease his war against us, we would have to overcome both of those roadblocks – his hatred of us, and his need for control of Halla," Press concluded. Bobby nodded.

"Now, I believe that it's possible that he can be convinced of our way of thinking. He can be made to re-discover that mankind in inherently good."

This is where Bobby interjected. "Maybe. I'm not saying that that's impossible, but there's no way that he will do that. His pride won't let him. He believes that mankind is beyond redemption, and there is no one who could convince him otherwise."

Press looked him in the eye and replied, "But what if there was?"

Bobby looked at him intently. The other Travelers were gaining interest. "Go on," Bobby said.

Press glanced up at the skies of Solara thoughtfully, and then said, "It's been a long time. Millennia. Eons." He paused again briefly before jumping into his explanation. "Back when we were still friends, before Saint Dane even began to consider his plans to conquer Halla, even before he fostered the belief that mankind was inherently bad, he was much like all of us. He visited the dreams of the people from the territories, offered them guidance, and helped them make their own choices and find their own paths." The others nodded slowly. Most of them knew as much. Press continued. "Well, from time to time a spirit may become attached to one of the people they seek to guide."

The Travelers were listening intently now. This was getting interesting.

"Saint Dane became attached to one of the beings he visited. A girl from Earth." He let that sink in for a moment before continuing. "He visited her often, sometimes to offer guidance, but more often just to be in her presence. She lived, and died, as all members of the territories do, and when she came to Solara Saint Dane made himself known to her." Even Bobby was intrigued by this point. "She actually recognized his presence from all the times he had visited her, and the two took to each other at once. They became quite intimate."

At this point Bobby interrupted, saying, "Oooooh-kay, I do NOT need that image in my head."

Press sighed in irritation. "Not physically, Bobby. Mentally. Emotionally. They became as close as two spirits are capable of being."

"So where is she now?" Siry asked. He was getting curious about this girl.

Aja scoffed. "I imagine she rushed off to join Saint Dane the moment he split Solara."

Press interrupted. "Not exactly." The others focused their attention back on him. "She was a spirit of incredible optimism. She loved mankind, good and bad. She was a beacon of positive energy in Solara, and without her influence, I believe Saint Dane would have turned long before he did."

"So I reiterate Siry's question," Kasha said. "Where is she now?"

"In Solara. When Saint Dane began voicing his concerns about humanity's path, she tried everything in her power to persuade him otherwise; and when Saint Dane finally made his decision to leave, he likewise did everything in his power to persuade her to join him." His gaze saddened. "She was decimated by his betrayal. After he left, she went into seclusion; and if Saint Dane has had any thoughts of her since, he hasn't acted on them."

He let this sink in. Finally, Mark spoke up. "So you think that if we send her, she might be able to give Saint Dane a reason to come back?"

Courtney snorted. "I don't believe it. I'll bet he snubbed her the second he realized he couldn't convince her to help him conquer Halla." The other Travelers glanced at each other. They were more or less thinking the same thing.

Press spoke again. "I know it's a long shot, but it's the only method I can think of to make sure that Saint Dane's threat becomes permanently neutralized." In all honesty he wasn't even sure if there was enough humanity left in the demon to care about her one way or the other.

Spader shook his head. "No way, mate. More likely that if we sent her back, we would just be sending him another Nevva Winter."

This made everyone flinch. A few of them glanced to the back, where a lone Traveler had stood silent throughout the meeting. None of them could tell what she was thinking; her head was down and several strands of her long, graying hair blocked her face. Although her expression was hidden, it was clear that the statement had impacted her – and not in a positive way. Even Spader looked slightly ashamed, and quickly silenced himself.

Finally, Bobby stepped forward. He looked around at the Travelers, trying to move the conversation along and take the spotlight off of the older woman. He thought he knew where her head was, but he wouldn't pressure her. He faced Press and asked him, "So you're saying that this spirit is still in Solara. Furthermore, she may be capable of bringing Saint Dane back to the good side?"

Uncle Press looked him right in the eye and said, "If there is any humanity left in Saint Dane, she's the only one capable of bringing it out. If he still has any feelings for her, he'll have to face the fact that to destroy Solara would mean destroying her as well."

Bobby nodded.

The lead Traveler turned back to the ring of spirits and addressed them. "So here's where we stand. We're almost certain that Saint Dane is going to make his move. He's in it to topple Solara, and he's in it for revenge. If we want to stop him, we're going to have to do it the good old fashioned way." He looked around to make sure that everyone was on the same page as him, and continued, "We, the Travelers of the first war, will take on physical forms to mentor the Travelers of the next one." He paused again, making sure that everyone knew what that would mean for them. They knew. Some of them better than others.

"Now here's where things get hairy. Do we fight Saint Dane the way we did before, and assuming we win, hope he stays gone for good? Or do we opt for Uncle Press's idea, and trust that Saint Dane may have maintained some small spark of humanity?"

Now the Travelers looked nearly alarmed. None of them wanted to believe it was possible…but none of them wanted to face the alternative either. Could Saint Dane really be saved? If not, would they truly have to continue fighting him for all eternity…or until he won? There was a long silence as nobody knew what to think, what to say, what to do. At last, a small, quiet voice broke the silence.

"Send her back."

They all looked around in confusion. It took them a moment to realize who had spoken. After being silent for the entire meeting, Elli Winter stepped forward and voiced her opinion. "I vote to send this spirit back. Love is a powerful force – I know that well. I've seen the changes it can enact in people, and if Saint Dane is capable of changing, then it is our best hope."

They all knew what she was talking about. Her daughter, Nevva, had joined Saint Dane during the first war. She had committed horrible crimes in his name; all of Halla nearly fell because of her actions, and her betrayal. In the end, however, it was Nevva Winter who was largely to thank for Halla's salvation. In a last-ditch effort to reach out to her, Elli Winter, along with Mark and Bobby, had gone to confront her. Elli had managed to reach her daughter, but her divided loyalties had caused Saint Dane to turn on her. He'd killed her mercilessly, and Elli had been forced to watch her daughter's spirit end.

That was what changed the tide in the Travelers' decision. They all looked to Elli with surprise and sympathy, then turned to Bobby and nodded.

Bobby nodded at them in return. "Then it's settled. We send this spirit back to do what she can, and hope that she can reach Saint Dane." He glanced at Spader, expecting him to object, but the next person to speak was Alder.

"I do not disagree with your decision," he said, "but I do have another suggestion." The others looked at him, and Bobby nodded for him to continue. "If we are sending her back to try and reach Saint Dane, that will require her to follow him around Halla. This will make her more or less the lead Traveler, will it not?"

Bobby hadn't considered that. It made sense, though. He nodded carefully.

"Then I suggest a compromise. Some of us opt for fighting; some of us opt for an attempt at peace. I vote that we send back two Travelers who will head the charge against Saint Dane. One to convince him to join us, and one who will take up the task of defeating him should the girl's attempts fail."

Aja looked interested, as did many of the others. "Joint leadership?" She asked, "As in two Travelers taking the Pendragon route and chasing him all over Halla…at the same time?"

Press nodded. "It would be complicated. I don't know how it would turn out…but I feel it's a safer bet than wholly relying upon one plan or the other."

Bobby looked around. He saw all of the Travelers nodding; including Spader, if a bit reluctantly. "Then it's settled," he said, "We send back one Traveler for each territory; we will mentor them, and ensure that two of them take up the job of chasing Saint Dane around Halla." He looked to each of them in turn, and was met with acceptance in each face save for Elli. She was looking down at the ground again.

"Well then, Uncle Press. Care to show us that spirit?"


	5. Let Start the Second War

The decision had been made. The other Travelers had dispersed to find spirits able and worthy to take up their cause. Press had gone to find the mysterious spirit whom they hoped would be able to sway Saint Dane. Bobby, however, had held off on seeking his own replacement. He knew that he had a difficult task ahead of him. He had to find a spirit who would act as a counter-balance to the diplomatic side of their mission. That was important – but he had something else to deal with, and he sensed that this couldn't wait.

He wasn't the only one who had stayed behind. Elli Winter was lingering as well, looking as though she needed to say something. Something that she was too afraid to express to the group. Bobby walked up to her and waited for her to start speaking. He'd gotten the feeling earlier that he knew what she was contemplating, but she had to be the one to approach it.

After a long silence, she spoke. "Pendragon. I think you know what's on my mind."

Bobby was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "I know what you're wondering, and the truth is, I have no idea. It's possible, but…" He trailed off, looked at her with concern. She was still looking down at the ground, and he couldn't tell what she was feeling. Fearful? Hopeful? Or was she beyond that?

She continued without looking up. "Saint Dane came back. We thought that he was gone forever, but somehow, he returned. We do not know how, or why, but if there is a way for it to happen once, is it truly inconceivable that it could happen again?"

Bobby didn't know what he believed, but he knew that she needed to hear something positive. Besides, for all he knew her hopes may not be unfounded. For both of their sakes, he hoped it wasn't.

"I'll look. I'll ask questions, and I'll keep an eye out. If there's anything to be discovered about it, I'll let you know right away." She finally looked up. Her eyes were tired, but they held something that he hadn't seen in a long time – a spark of hope.

"Thank you, Pendragon. That is all I needed to hear." She looked up at the sky, wondering what would come next. They both knew what tasks lay ahead of them, but he knew that she would have an added motive to take up the fight again. Not for her sake, though. It was never for her sake.

As he made to leave, to find the spirit who would replace him as lead Traveler in the fight against Saint Dane, he turned back to Elli and said, "If it's possible for her to come back, I believe that she has the strength to do it. If she's out there, we'll find her."

Elli smiled at Pendragon as her corporeal form faded, leaving only the cloud of light and energy that was her now-natural state. Soon that was gone as well. As Bobby sped over Solara, he realized that his words were more than mere comfort. At some level, he believed that was he said was true.

If there was a way for other spirits to return as Saint Dane did, it was possible that Elli's daughter had returned as well.

If Nevva Winter was out there, they would find her.

* * *

Saint Dane stood in the swirling darkness that was his own twisted version of Solara. "It begins again. Hatred begets hatred, and so the cycle is begun anew. They will learn of their mistakes in time." His eyes flashed white for a brief moment, and then returned to their typical blue. "They believe that there is no good, no bad, that there only _is._ But I know better."

He sighed, looking out at the dark wasteland before him. It reflected his state of mind, and embodied the emotions that festered inside.

Saint Dane's hatred ate at him, sharpening his mind and strengthening his resolve. He looked forward to the coming battle, if only to see the despair on the faces of those who had wronged him. He would see them beg as he had begged. He would watch them fall as he had fallen. And if they returned as he had?

He relished the idea of watching it all again.

"You have worked so hard to rebuild Halla, to return it to its 'rightful state,'" he said softly. "So resplendent. So resilient. So…flawed."

He held his hand out in front of him, palm down. The worlds of Halla appeared before him; the worlds that he knew better, perhaps, than any other. He knew their histories, and he knew their people. He understood the subtle laws that governed each one, understood the balance that existed between them…and knew how easy it was to break. He studied them closely. The plans he had devised were ready to be implemented; only one thing was missing.

"The power that once was," he said, repeating those words he had spoken so long ago, "Will no longer be." He flipped his palm face up, bringing the eight planets that had been revolving below him to eye-level.

"The game begins again," He said while curling his fingers, bringing the worlds closer together. The planets began to swirl alarmingly fast, boundaries weakening at his touch. Far away, earth began to crumble as stone walls collapsed in on themselves. Across the territories, holes were being drilled into the very fabric of time and space, dark matter crusting their walls as they flung themselves far enough to reach into eternity.

Saint Dane's face creased in concentration. His form flickered briefly as he focused his entire being on the task at hand. "Send your Travelers. Come what may, I will not be denied a second time." His form winked out once more, then came back into focus as he stood, watching the completion of the project that would mark the beginning of the new war…and the end of Halla.

_"Because this is the way it was meant to be."_


	6. L'aria

_When I wake up, yeah I know I'm gonna be_   
_I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you_   
_When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be_   
_I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you_

Aria Callahan skipped down the stairs of her home towards the kitchen, stepping in time to the rhythm thrumming in her ears via her IPod. As she whirled around the banister, she had to dodge nimbly out of the way to avoid hitting her mother as she walked out of the kitchen.

Her mother quickly moved to the left to allow her daughter room to pass. Any time she saw the bright blue ear bud trailing from under her daughter's hair, she knew to be careful – Aria wasn't always completely aware of her surroundings when she was in her zone.

"You know, Aria, most teenagers like to sleep in on Saturdays," Her mother chided playfully.

Aria shrugged, still spinning and twirling to her music. "Too much to do; why bother sleeping in?" She made her way over to the toaster, where she deposited two pieces of bread from the loaf her mom had left out. It was at this moment that her dad walked in, still in his pajamas and looking not at all as motivated to move as his daughter.

"What in the world do you have going on that requires you to get up at seven o' clock on a Saturday?" He asked while yawning. Since he worked mostly from home, and had a low-stress job, he was used to sleeping in much later than his daughter usually did. While Aria was dancing around the kitchen, fully dressed, making breakfast and singing an odd assortment of music, her father was still a pajama clad, unshaven, half-asleep mess. This was the case most mornings.

Aria shrugged. "I dunno. But there has to be _something_ to do.” The only thing she had going on today was an interview for a very prestigious academic program, but that wasn't until later that afternoon. If she got into it, she would be able to join a club that consisted of some of the top scholars in the country. It was almost guaranteed to get her into any college she wanted – not that she would be going to college any time soon. That was still a fair few years off.

It was at this moment her toast popped up, which she quickly grabbed and lathered thickly with strawberry jam. Her mother cringed slightly. Aria had a monstrous sweet tooth, and the amount of jam she put on her toast in the mornings… frankly there was more jam than toast.

Aria ran through a mental checklist of things she wanted to accomplish today. She was an extremely motivated individual, most days. Top grades in all of her classes. An accomplished pianist. She was excellent at gymnastics, and she possessed a drive that most people would be envious of. Though she was only fourteen, she had done more things than a lot of people do before the age of thirty.

This was in part thanks to her Uncle Press. He was always taking her out on adventures – skydiving, spelunking, ice skating in the Alps, traveling the Southwest, you name it. He often challenged her to do new things. Rollerblading? She handled it like a pro. Chemistry? She had made her own fireworks for the Fourth of July using cleaning supplies, fertilizer and a few added ingredients from Home Depot. And for the record, they were _way_ better than the Phantom Fireworks.

Uncle Press had once challenged her to learn sewing when she was nine. "But that's so _boring,"_ She had complained, expecting a greater challenge.

Press had smiled at her. "It may be boring, but it's a useful skill that not a lot of people have anymore. Back in my day…" He had trailed off, grinning as she blanched. He knew she hated stories that began with that. She used to go down to volunteer at the seniors' home nearby, and one of the people she visited always treated her to long, dry stories about how when he was her age, he would have to walk to and from school every day, barefoot, through the snow. Uphill. Both ways.

In the end she had accepted his challenge, and was now pretty decent at it. In fact, she had taken to sewing all of her clothes when they got ripped or torn. As a result, a lot of people thought she was dirt poor due to her wear-and-tear style and lack of brands. The truth was, she came from a moderately wealthy family; upper middle class, at least. She wasn't exactly a Rockefeller, but that didn't really matter to her. If she wanted books, she would go to the library. If she wanted music, she would tune into the radio or YouTube, or compose something on the piano. If she wanted spending money, she would work small jobs around town, cleaning cars and taking care of pets and small children. She preferred pets since the children tended to walk all over her. The things smelled weakness like a shark smells blood.

"She's very self-sufficient," is what her parents always told people. She knew they were proud of her even if they didn't say it too often. They knew she didn't like drawing attention to herself and her accomplishments - she only ever raised her hand in class if literally no one else would answer the question. This was common, since everyone knew she would answer the question if they stayed mum long enough.

That being said, whenever she learned something that really piqued her interest (did you know that the moon crashed into the Earth some few odd billion years ago before getting caught in its gravitational field, liquefying it and causing all of the heavy metals like iron to sink to the middle? That's why Earth has a core of iron!) she loved to share it with her mom, dad, and two best friends. They would often listen in utter fascination – not always because it was interesting information, but because Aria talked about it with such intense fervor that it would be difficult _not_ to listen.

She hadn't even finished her second piece of jam-with-a-bit-of-toast before she was halfway to the door. "Buh-bye mum, dad, luff oo," She warbled out, mouth still full of breakfast. Her cat, Loki, walked past her and she reached down to stroke his back as she passed.

This time it was her dad who winced. "Love you too, hun. Don't talk with your mouth full!" It was a pet peeve of his.

She swallowed, grabbing her rollerblades and opening the door. She grinned back over her shoulder at him. "You know, you should get out today and do something fun! There's so much out there. I don't know about you, but I'm going to experience as much of it as I can." She often said this to her parents, who were notorious for their lack of ambition to see the world.

With that, she disappeared out the door.

* * *

As Aria disappeared from sight, her parents looked at each other in concern. They sighed, and her mother murmured sadly, "If only you knew, sweetheart. If only you knew."

* * *

Aria rolled down the street, one ear bud playing "All that Jazz" from Chicago, the other dangling soundlessly over her right ear. She snapped her fingers to the rhythm and sang under her breath. The upbeat tune complimented her mood, and during the livelier parts of the song she really took off, spinning around and shooting down the road. When she was alone, she was motivated, happy, and quick-thinking. She was generally more subdued when she had company.

She had lived the vast majority of her life in the small town of Lumis, California. Having been homeschooled until the age of eleven, she hadn't had many people to interact with other than her parents and their friends and colleagues. This heavy exposure to adults at a young age had instilled her with more maturity that most people possess until they're in their twenties. Her Uncle Press had always lectured her on the value of maturity and self-containment – right before urging her to go do something spontaneous and ridiculous.

As she rolled down the streets she had rolled down a thousand times before, she contemplated what to do with her day. Go to the library? There was a new Stephen King novel she was hoping to pick up. Drop by the mall? She wasn't much of a mall rat, but there was a public piano she played on some of the busier days. People threw her tips fairly often, and on a good day she might make fifty bucks or more. She decided against it though. She had enough spending money to get by on. In the end she decided on the gym. She was always welcome to use their equipment, provided they were open, and she knew they were.

A bright blue scrub jay took off screeching as she rolled by, starling the other birds nearby into flight. She turned down the street that would take her to Extreme Gymnastics, waving to a few of the older folk who were out sitting on their porches or in their open garages. She was on good terms with the elderly people in her neighborhood, often stopping to chat awhile, knowing that they usually didn't get much company. It was in her nature to befriend the friendless.

She finally made it to the gym, waving at her instructor, who was currently teaching a class. She went to the locker room and quickly changed into her equipment before sauntering out onto the floor.

She did a few stretches, and then started moving around the gym, doing a bit of everything – balance beams, back flips, front flips, tightrope. That was a fun one. They had it set up over a large pit of foam cubes, so you could practice walking over higher distances without the risk of getting hurt. She was pretty good at it – she could make it the whole six yards or so without falling. Most of the time.

She was a short, fairly slim girl. Despite her constant intake of sugary, tremendously unhealthy food she never seemed to gain any weight. She had long brown hair so dark that a lot of people mistook it for black at a glance. Her eyes were a dazzling green, though the rings around them didn't do much to add to that. Despite what her mother had said about not sleeping in, she had gotten more sleep the previous night than she had all week. She often went to bed past midnight and got up before six for early activities at school. Sleeping in until seven was late for her.

The rings around her eyes were brought out by her pale skin. For a California girl, she wasn't at all that tan, and she was in a very sunny region. This was mostly due to the fact that she spent a lot of time indoors, reading and studying. The only reason she had taken up gymnastics was because her parents were adamant that she have a regular, physical activity to keep her in shape. She had reluctantly started when she was nine, and it was now one of her favorite pastimes. Plus, the cardio helped her out whenever she went on hikes with her uncle. She had a lithe body shape, though her recent growth spurt had stretched her near the point of scrawniness.

After about two solid hours of working out, she rinsed off and headed out the back doors, waving goodbye to her instructor. He was now teaching a different class, and threw her a wave as he droned on about the importance of using the safety equipment.

She felt calm having used up the excess energy in her system, but still peppy from the endorphins. She rolled down the street again, contentedly inhaling the fresh air and listening to the Goldberg Variations. This time she headed towards one of her favorite places: the library. She always enjoyed some mental exercise following the physical sort. Besides, no one from her school would be caught dead at the library on a Saturday morning.

That suited her just fine. She wasn't the most popular girl in school. In fact, her tendency to make friends with the most odd and unpopular students had, for whatever reason, earned her the ire of Jenna Jordan.

Jenna had made her social life fairly miserable since the beginning of middle school. She was your typical, grade-A, Mean Girls type bully. She called Aria extremely rude names, spread rumors about her, and threatened to ostracize anyone who was even remotely friendly to her – you know, bully. It was because of this that Aria typically avoided places that she knew Jenna and her clique would inhabit. The library was not one of those places.

She skidded to a stop in front of the large, old, red-brick building, tied her rollerblades together, shoved them under a nearby bush, and went inside. As she did, she heard someone coming around the corner. She paused, and ducked behind one of the bookshelves to see who was coming. She was one of those 'I see you before you see me' kinds of people. She thought it was a defense mechanism - every time she turned down a school corridor, she ran the risk of bumping into Jenna and her posse. Better to see than be seen. Easier to avoid unmanageable people that way.

She quickly relaxed when she saw it was just one of the librarians, Mrs. Jans. She wasn't the most pleasant woman, but she was never more unpleasant to Aria then she was to anyone else. That wasn't saying much, but at least she wasn't being sorted out for punishment. Mrs. Jans believed in equal opportunity.

Smiling at the dour librarian as she passed, she started off for the adult fiction section. She walked through the shelves, brushing her fingers along the spines of the books as she passed. From Algebraic Functions to Appreciation of Music, Physics to Philosophy, Shel Silverstein to Shakespeare, Stephen King to Stephen Hawking, nearly every subject fascinated her; even if it didn't, she often took the time to read up on it anyway if she felt it was worthwhile. You never knew what might end up being useful.

She at last got to the 'K' section under horror, and thumbed through the titles for 'King'. Although people often told her she was a bit (and by a bit they meant entirely) too young for his books, he was still her favorite author. She delighted in the thrill of a good horror story, sympathizing with King's philosophy that it was easier to read about imagined suffering than deal with one's own. With her intensely suffering social life, among…other things…she often found herself seeking the comfort only a good book could provide her.

She looked through the selection of King novels available, and was slightly disappointed to see that the book she was hoping to borrow had not yet made it onto the library's shelves. Another book did catch her eye, though, as it did at least once or twice a year.

_The Shining._

Aria paused, looking at the book. Another library patron shuffled past, murmuring, "Pardon me," as they did. Aria moved slightly forward to give them more room, contemplating the black and red siding of the novel.

It was one of her favorites. It wasn't only the terrifying aspects of it that she loved (it was the scariest book she had ever read), the psychological thrill of it appealed to her as well. She had read it countless times, and every time she came to despise the dark spirit of the Overlook Hotel more and more. She found that she sympathized with Jack Torrance, whose only goal was to put his life back on track and recover from the losses he had suffered at the hands of his own volatile temper. It was the Overlook that was to blame for his failure in doing so, and she wanted nothing more than to see him triumph over its dark influence. She admired Danny and Wendy for being able to withstand both the physical and mental onslaught they were faced with. Danny's innocence versus the Overlook's domination. Good vs. evil. The ending, while satisfactory, was embittered by sorrow and loss. She wished it wasn't so, but no matter how many times she read the book, nothing changed.

_Do you expect it to? It’s a book. Books don’t change._

She thought this to herself every time she took the novel out to read, and the same thought was running through her mind as she brought it up to the counter.

As Aria walked to the checkout line, she noticed another book that caught her eye. _Origins of Ouija._ She grabbed it and brought it up along with _The Shining_. Mrs. Jans was running the check-out line. It was empty. As Aria handed the librarian her library card, Mrs. Jans hissed, "Again with that old thing? If you read it any more the cover will fall off!"

Aria smiled brightly. "That's alright. If it does, I'll be happy to buy the library a new copy. Maybe the one with the original cover." She preferred the original cover to the movie cover.

Mrs. Jans glared at her, stamped the release form, and handed her back the books. Aria walked out of the library with a skip in her step. She had picked up the second book for a friend of hers, whom she knew would just be waking up, seeing as it was nearly ten. Aria had decided to go visit her upon seeing that book in the library. She was totally into that sort of thing – the occult, that is. Furthermore, Aria had several hours until her appointment. Plenty of time to visit with her friend, head back to her house, change, shower, and get to school.

As she sat to put her roller blades back on, a shadow loomed over her. She glanced up in alarm. The man standing in front of her was considerable taller than her, with shoulder-length, messy brown hair and a long, light-brown duster. If he were a stranger she would have been alarmed.

He wasn't a stranger.

She grinned as she stood up. "Uncle Press! Long time no see." She immediately wrapped him in a hug, which he returned. Uncle Press was perhaps her favorite person in the universe. Any time she needed advice or a shoulder to cry on (not that she did much crying), he was there for her. It had been a couple of weeks since his last visit – actually, a couple of months when she thought about it.

He smiled at her and reached out to ruffle her hair teasingly. She swiped at him playfully, knowing full well that he knew full well how much she hated that. "Hey kid. How's school going?" He knew how academically oriented she was. Although she did a great deal outside of academics, she still considered it her first priority.

"Same old, same old."

"So, still top in all of your classes? Running tutoring sessions for kids four years older than you? Having teachers ask to use your papers as examples?" Aria had skipped a few grade levels. As a result, she was currently a sophomore at Del Aurum High School, while she should have just been graduating junior high.

She ducked the question. Though she was proud of her intellect, she wasn't one to draw attention to her academic success. "So what brings you here? I thought you were in…where was it? Algeria? Bulgaria?"

He smiled again, but this time Aria could have sworn she saw something flash in his eyes. Sadness? Regret? Worry? She couldn't tell.

"I'm actually here because I need your help with something."

Aria blinked. Her Uncle had always been there for her, but she couldn't remember a single time when he had needed her help. Something about the way he said it – and the way his eyes had flashed – made her feel uneasy. "Sure. What's up?" If her Uncle needed her help, she would be more than happy to give it.

"There are some people who are in trouble, and we need to help them." He said, then added, "I can't do it without you."

Now she was even more confused. What people? What was so important about her? _Unless they're old people,_ she though. She'd had a lot of experience taking care of seniors. But beyond that, she couldn't think of what he meant.

"Uh, alright…but how long will it take? I have something really important going on at four. I can't miss it." It was true. That interview could make or break her entire academic life. She had worked hard to qualify, and she was confident that she would get the spot – if she made it to her interview, that is. If not? Hasta la vista.

Press looked at her seriously. "If you come with me, you'll miss it." He looked at her sympathetically as her face fell. "I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't really important."

Aria knew that was true, too. Her uncle wouldn’t kid about something like this.

Press had always come through for her. He had never once left her hanging. As important as the interview was…it wasn't as important as this. She sighed, watching a flock of Brewer's blackbirds pacing around the parking lot. One of them, a female based on the brown plumage, shook itself and chirped. She took a deep breath before replying to her uncle.

"Alright. Where are we going?"

Press smiled at her a little sadly, as though he had known what her answer would be but was still hated to hear it. He spun around, taking off across the library parking lot and scattering the birds. "Stow the blades. You won't be needing them." He strode towards his mode of transportation – a sleek red motorcycle, which looked very out of place in the ramshackle lot.

She sighed, and stuffed the roller blades in the bag which held her library books. She ran after her Uncle Press, who was just getting situated on the bike. She hopped on behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. He revved the engine and they took off down the street. Aria glanced back. Behind them, the birds landed again, unperturbed; their disturbance was already forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits: Lyrics from I Would Walk 500 Miles by the Proclaimers  
> Reference to The Shining by Stephen King


	7. Caves and Quarries

As they rode down the street, Aria once again had her ear buds in – mostly to block out the sound of the wind roaring by her head. As she pondered where they might be going, and what the repercussions of missing her interview might be, she jammed along to one of her favorite musical artists.

_The sirens are screaming, and the fires are howling_   
_Way down in the valley tonight._   
_There's a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye_   
_And a blade shining oh, so bright._

_There's evil in the air and there's thunder in the sky,_   
_And a killer's on the bloodshot streets._   
_And down in the tunnels where the deadly are rising_   
_Oh, I swear I saw a young boy down in the gutter_   
_He was starting to foam in the heat._

She was curious, to say the least. As they sped by familiar streets and buildings, she couldn't help wondering just what her Uncle Press was involved in, and why he needed her help to deal with it. She hadn't missed the looks he had tried to conceal, either. Whatever he needed from her, for whatever reason, she was certain he regretted having to ask her.

_I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram_   
_On a silver-black phantom bike._   
_When the metal is hot, and the engine is hungry_   
_And we're all about to see the light._

_Nothing ever grows in this rotting old hole,_   
_And everything is stunted and lost,_   
_And nothing really rocks, and nothing really rolls,_   
_And nothing's ever worth the cost._

Still, as upsetting as missing her interview was, and as strange as her uncle's looks were, she tempered her worry with faith. Her uncle had brought her on some fairly exciting adventures before, but he had never led her into any danger. Wherever they were going, she trusted in him to keep things from getting too out of hand.

_Well I know that I'm damned if I never get out,_   
_And maybe I'm damned if I do,_   
_But with every other beat I've got left in my heart,_   
_You know I'd rather be damned with you._

They were riding out of town, but the direction confused her. At first, she thought they were headed towards the large town of Granite Bay, or maybe even Sacramento, but they weren't headed towards the city, or even any of the surrounding towns. It looked like they were going in the direction of the old rock quarry. There was almost nothing else out there; just a few houses and a long road that looped around and spat them back out on the road to Lumis.

_Oh, baby you're the only thing in this whole world_   
_That's pure and good and right._   
_And wherever you are and wherever you go_   
_There's always gonna be some light,_

_But I gotta get out, I gotta break out now_   
_Before the final crack of dawn._   
_So we gotta make the most of our one night together_   
_When it's over, you know,_   
_We'll both be so alone._

The further they rode, the more certain Aria became. They were headed to the rock quarry. After about half an hour they pulled up in the forlorn gravel clearing that people now used to park. The quarry had been abandoned decades ago, and no modern touches could be found, save for the litter that occasionally adorned the ground. She had been here a number of times before. The quarry was fairly large with many hiking trails, trailing ponds, boulder piles, and a few caves. Her uncle had brought her here all the time as a kid to practice hiking, and her parents had taken her here every year for Easter for as long as she could remember.

She swung her leg over, grabbing her bag and stepping onto the ground. As her Uncle hopped off the bike, she noticed that he left the keys in the ignition. "Uhhh, Uncle Press? I think you're forgetting something," She said quizzically.

He waved her concern off. "Don't worry about it, it'll be fine. Let's go."

She glanced back at the bike again. Although this wasn't exactly a heavily populated area, and the people in her hometown were generally good people, this place attracted a lot of angsty teenagers who were looking for some privacy. If they left it alone too long, she was certain it would get stolen. She shrugged it off though. If her uncle wasn't concerned, he knew what he was doing…or it was his loss.

As she followed him through the mossy, forested quarry, she occasionally paused to grab some of the plants that grew just off the paths. Miner's Lettuce was a long-stemmed, bright green plant with an odd, flat green head. Her father had told her about it when she was young. It was edible, healthy, and pretty tasty. Although it probably wasn't sanitary to just eat it right out of the ground, she did it anyways. It had never hurt her before.

She followed her uncle along one of the paths they had taken a hundred times before. She was unbelievably confused. Where were the people they were supposed to help? Had they all met up at one of the clearings in the quarry? If so, why did they have to meet so deep in the forest? Why were they here in the first place?

At last her uncle stopped, turned off the trail and gestured for Aria to follow him. He took off down a small deer trail through the brush. She followed him closely, curiosity nearly overwhelming. Overhead, a western meadow lark shot by, warbling loudly, and she looked around. She had explored the quarry thoroughly as a child, and had never come across anything out here. After another ten minutes of walking they at last reached what she assumed was their destination – an old, abandoned cave, probably used for mining at one point. It was partially grown over, but there was an obvious space cleared for people to get in and out. She looked at him curiously. Although she was tentative about going into the small, dark space – there was dangerous wildlife out here – her curiosity overcame her. It almost always did. If there was one thing wrong with her, it was that she was curious to a fault. She would dismiss even the most threatening situation if you got her interested enough.

Uncle Press glanced back at her one more time to make sure she was still with him, then wormed his way into the small cave. Aria followed close behind him, fanny pack getting caught on the rock, bag of books and blades getting snagged on the branches. She would have left the bag at with the bike, but she was certain that when the bike got stolen, whoever took the bike would grab the bag as well, regardless of the near worthlessness of the contents.

She pulled out her iPod and turned it on. Using it as a light source, she was just barely able to make out her surroundings. She was surprised to find that the cave was much roomier than she thought it would be. Most of the caves at the quarry were either small, shallow natural caves, or sealed off mine shafts. This one was large enough for two people to walk side by side in, and protruded deep into the rock. As she followed her uncle down the deep tunnel, she noticed that there were no cigarette butts or broken bottles around. This was odd, because teenagers tended to find these caves with ease, and use them to get away with all kinds of things. Apparently, this cave had remained undiscovered by the youth of the surrounding towns. Or anyone else, for that matter.

A moment later she took that thought back. As Press led her into a fairly large chamber, she saw there was someone sitting against the wall across from them. He had a small fire going, so Aria could see the rest of the cave. It was extremely large, big enough for half a dozen trailers to fit in side by side, with enough room for a few Volkswagens left over. There was another tunnel branching off from this large cave, a small one along the wall halfway between them and the guy by the fire. She realized that this must connect to the main mine, a series of tunnels and shafts that worked its way at least a mile or two underground. Most of the entrances had been blocked off for fear of people getting lost or injured. Apparently this one had been overlooked.

As she looked more closely at the person across from them, she saw that he was dressed in fairly ratty clothes, and was holding a beer bottle in one hand. He was probably a vagrant, or one of the local high schoolers looking for a place to drink without getting busted. She wondered if this was the person she had been brought to help.

But when Uncle Press saw the guy, he stopped dead in his tracks. Press glanced back at Aria, then murmured, "The place you're looking for is down there," he said while gesturing to the tunnel between them and the man. "Keep going straight, then look for a tunnel with a star carved into the rock to the left of it. It should be the third one on the left."

She was baffled. Why was he telling her this? Wasn't he coming with her?

He continued, "Run down that cave until the rocks turn solid grey. When you've gotten there, shout, 'Denduron'. I'll follow you as soon as I can." She looked at him in confusion.

"Uhhh, alright, but–" She was cut off as the man stood up and called out to them.

"Hey," he said, sounding vaguely drunk. "What're you doin' in my cave?" His words were slurred, but he didn't look like much of a threat. Mostly he looked like he was about to fall over.

Uncle Press tensed. "You're not fooling anybody, you know," he said nonchalantly. "No one knows about this cave. If they did, there would be litter everywhere." The man looked up at him a bit strangely, as if not fully understanding him. Aria certainly wasn't.

The man looked like he was about to speak again, when Press interrupted. "Also, you're holding a brand of beer that hasn't been sold on this territory for thirty years."

At this the man raised both eyebrows, and then smirked, drunkenness gone. "Well then, I suppose there's no need for the charade now, is there?"

Aria's breath caught in her throat. In the flickering light of the fire, it looked as though the man was undergoing some sort of transformation. His form seemed to liquefy, writhe for a moment in the uncertain light, and then he solidified into an entirely new person.

The man who stood in front of them now had long, sleek black hair falling down to the middle of his back. He stood nearly seven feet tall, and wore a dark suit with a crisp cut. What struck Aria most was the eyes. They were a cold, bright blue, and seemed alive with malice. They locked onto hers briefly, and she shuddered. They studied her for a moment, then went back to Press.

"And pray tell, who might this be? I was under the impression that I would be seeing a familiar face. I wasn't aware that you would be sending…fresh blood." He said this with a smirk that chilled Aria.

Uncle Press narrowed his eyes at the man standing across from them. "Things have changed. I suppose this means you're a bit behind on our tactics. That's unusual for you, Saint Dane. Don't you normally take pride in keeping one step ahead of us?"

This made the man's eyes narrow briefly, then his face regained its calm, self-assured mask. "Never mind. New players or old, it will not change the outcome."

"Don't you wish." Uncle Press looked back at Aria. She was caught somewhere between petrified and fascinated. He looked her in the eye and said, "Cave. Star. Third on the left. Denduron. Go now." With that he turned to Saint Dane and pulled something out of his pocket. Saint Dane did the same, reflexes like lightning.

_CRACK!_

There was the thunderous sound of two weapons discharging at once. Aria's eyes widened, and she took off for the cave – right into the line of fire. There was another crack as a gun went off. Just before darting around the corner, she felt a searing pain on the back of her shoulder. One of the bullets had grazed her.

She was terrified, and using her iPod to light the way, she stumbled along as quickly as she dared, looking for any sign of the cave her uncle was talking about.

Aria could hear gunfire coming from behind her. Whoever this Saint Dane guy was, Uncle Press was keeping him occupied. She was afraid for her uncle, but frankly she was more afraid for herself. She would just have to trust that Uncle Press knew what he was doing. She wasn't armed, after all, and she wasn't about to bring an IPod to a gunfight. So, she kept running. Or stumbling, rather.

She had passed by one cave to the left of her and two to the right when she heard a sound behind her. It was a low, threatening growl. She paused. There were a number of animals that could make a sound like that, and none of them were the kinds you wanted to put your back to. She turned around…and wished she hadn't.  
A mountain lion was prowling towards her. Its fangs glinted and its eyes glowed bright yellow in the limited light. It was stalking towards her, and as Aria watched, two more joined it. They prowled out of the cave to her left, the one she had just passed.

What were mountain lions doing this deep in a cave? Besides that, why so many? They were usually solitary animals, rarely found in groups exceeding two members. This wasn't the case with these three, though, and as they stalked towards her, she realized that there was another sound coming from the cave to her immediate right. Shining her IPod light revealed yet another of the monstrous beasts prowling towards her. She swallowed her fear and started moving slowly backwards. What was going on here?

She decided to take a nice, calming approach. They outnumbered her significantly – there was no way she would be able to trick them into thinking she was a threat. One, perhaps, but not four. She would have to try to convince them she wasn't an aggressor. Animals didn't generally attack unless they were hungry, or they felt that a threat needed to be dealt with. The risk of injury was too high to attack for any other reasons. As she moved slowly backwards, she chanted in a soft, sing-song voice, "Nice kitty…warm kitty…little ball of fur…" she passed yet another cave to her left. The next one would be the one she was looking for. She continued to step back away from the animals pacing towards her. "Happy kitty…sleepy kitty…"

The beast in front roared and sprang at her. This kitty was neither sleepy nor happy.

Aria grabbed her book-bag and swung it at the beast. It connected with the creature's head, causing it to stumble. The other three paused for a moment. A moment was enough, and Aria took off down the tunnel. No longer caring about the lack of light at her feet, she aimed her IPod towards the left wall searching desperately for the tunnel. The beasts were right on her tail. It would take only a few more moments for them to catch up to her, and then there wouldn't be anything she could do. At last she saw the cave, and darted sharply around the corner. The big cats behind her tried to turn as sharply and got into a pileup. She was grateful for this; if they hadn't, they would be using her as a scratching post right now.

She ran forward, listening to the low growls of the lions behind her. They were probably already up and running again. She sprinted forward, and it wasn't long until the rocks turned from brown and dusty to pure, solid grey, just like her uncle had said. She looked around for some indication of safety, but found none. In fact, the tunnel seemed to stretch on without end, and she knew she wouldn't be able to outrun the animals chasing her. Her heart sank, and she turned around.

The mountain lions were back, prowling cautiously up to her. They seemed deterred by the rocky substance before them, prodding at it with their paws and growling in irritation. Nonetheless, she doubted that would stop them from getting an easy meal. Aria backed into the tunnel, heart pounding, thoughts flying wildly around in her head, wondering why she had even consented to come here, who that man who had shot at her was, where Uncle Press was—

Suddenly she remembered the last thing he had told her to do. Not knowing what the point was, but desperate for any kind of help, she gathered her breath and shouted out, _"Denduron!"_

There was a shift in the atmosphere. The big cats widened their eyes, then began to back away. Aria felt a surge of relief, followed by fear.

She felt something tugging at her, and realized with a start that the rock beneath her feet had turned totally clear.

The cats fled as light began to fill the tunnel. Aria was terrified. What was this? Wind pressure? A vacuum of some sort? A freakin' _tractor beam?_ She started to struggle against the force pulling her in, but paused and turned her head to get a better view of what was happening. A light was speeding towards her, and as frightened as she was, her curiosity overcame her. She heard a mismatched jumble of musical notes emanating from the tunnel. She stood, unable to struggle against the indomitable force any longer, and watched as the mysterious light enveloped her.

Suddenly, she was floating. She felt as though she was moving, but couldn't tell how quickly or in what direction. Forward, she supposed; but forward unto what? As she looked around, heart beating wildly, she saw the walls were as transparent as the rocks that had been at her feet.

She was equal parts terrified and fascinated. Looking out she beheld a vast star field, stretching endlessly all around her. She was wildly confused, but didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. Was she in space? That's what it looked like, but if that was the case, she was isolated from it. She could breathe perfectly well, and the temperature was normal.

She eventually relaxed, at least a bit. No mountain lions, no man with a gun…so far this place seemed a lot nicer than the one she had left.

Thinking about that sent a pang of fear and regret shooting through her. What about Uncle Press? She knew that there was nothing she could have done, but the fact was she had left him. She hadn't even hesitated. He would now be trapped between both that Saint Dane guy and the lions. He had a gun, but how much good would that do him? A mountain lion could take three or four bullets easily without slowing down, unless you got them in the head. Heck, even a human pumped up on enough adrenaline could take a several rounds to the chest and keep coming until the brain registered that it was dead. She was less scared for herself now, and much more concerned about her uncle. Guilt pulsed through her. She prayed that he would be alright.

After an indeterminable amount of time, maybe hours, or perhaps a few minutes, she heard once again the jumble of notes that had accompanied the beginning of her journey. She tensed in fear. Was she about to land? Where would she end up? Back in the cave? The other end of the rock quarry? Somewhere else?

The musical notes grew louder, and she was at last deposited at her destination, gravity resuming its normal force as her feet touched ground. She glanced back at the tunnel and saw the light receding back into its depths. She blinked, then turned back around. Initially she thought that she had wound up with choice number two: the other end of the quarry.

She was in a cave; that much was certain. The rocks weren't very different from those in the one she had just left, but the first thing that registered with her was the temperature.

It was _freezing._

She looked around wildly and noticed that there were enough differences between here and the rock quarry mine that it was unlikely she was still in the same place. These rocks had a different texture and color from the ones in her geographic region.

She also realized that it was a bit difficult to breathe. Low temperature plus low oxygen typically indicated high altitude. How could that be, though? She had just been underground!

The laws of physics didn't seem to care, though. When she moved to look around a bit, she found the exit to the cave, and looking out…she was staggered by what she saw.

She was on the top of a mountain. Snow surrounded her, and before her stretched a vast land seemingly untouched by modern civilization. A forest sat at the base of the mountain, and she could see no large buildings or man-made clearings from where she stood. Looking at her more immediate surroundings, she saw a sled of some sort just outside of the cave, right under an overhang that shielded it from the elements. A pile of some sort of cloth sat near the rocky tunnel that had deposited her here, and outside the cave, multiple bright yellow spikes jutted up out of the snow. Maybe some strange natural rock formation, unique to the area.

Aria turned back to the cave, half curious, half frightened. For the immediate moment, curiosity was winning out. She was exhilarated, but not knowing what to do, she just walked around the cave trying to get her bearings. She was too worked up to think straight. She hoped her uncle would find her soon.

It wasn't long before the tunnel began to glow again. Since it wasn't sucking her in, she assumed it was likely depositing someone, the way she had been deposited. She perked up a bit. Uncle Press must have managed to get away.

As the jumble of notes grew louder, Aria stood up and took a step towards the flume – then stopped dead in her tracks. It wasn't her uncle who was stepping out - it was the other man. Saint Dane.

Aria quickly back-pedaled, eyes widening in panic. The man landed, saw her, and immediately darted towards her. She flung herself back against the wall, but he followed her movements. Once she was trapped, he grabbed her face roughly, and brought himself down to eye level. Their eyes locked, and he studied her intently.

* * *

Saint Dane gripped her face tightly and brought her closer to him. He looked her in the eye, trying to figure out which spirit had been sent to combat him. It's said that the eyes are the windows to the soul, after all.

The girl was terrified, he could tell that much. Also immediately apparent was that this was not one of the Travelers he had faced in the first war, nor any of their acolytes. It was possible that they had been sent back with new bodies, but Saint Dane could tell that this wasn't the case. Whoever this spirit was, she was new to him.

And yet… something about her seemed familiar. He couldn't quite place it, but he quickly dismissed it. He had come to know many spirits during him time in Solara. It would not be surprising if he had known this one as well. Furthermore, it would not stop him from exacting his revenge. If the ones he sought feared him enough to send replacements in their stead, then he would simply have to tear through these ones first.

Tremors racked the girl's body. She stood paralyzed, unable to look away. Good. She was right to fear him. He smirked, and then stood up straight. He had things to do, places to be…and if this was the pathetic Traveler that Pendragon had sent to fight him, Saint Dane knew he would see her again soon enough.

* * *

The man, Saint Dane, studied her intently for perhaps a full minute. Then, smirking at her, he let her face go and turned to leave.

Her mind had gone blank while he was studying her, but now the thoughts came flooding back. She was afraid, yes, but as she remembered the way he had transformed in the cave earlier, questions began to flood her mind. Who was this guy? How did he transform like that? What was this place, and why was he here? For that matter, why was _she_ here?

Curious to a fault.

She took a step forward, exclaiming, "Wait! What–" She was cut off as he whipped around, pulling his gun out of nowhere and pressing it to her forehead. He glared down at her. His eyes blazed blue, and Aria suddenly remembered the pain in her shoulder from where his bullet had grazed her. As the cold metal was pressed to her skin, she wondered numbly what had become of her uncle. As much as she wanted to know, any questions she might have asked dried up on her tongue. It seemed that her brash curiosity was what had upset him, and she had no intention of making things worse.

The gun was pressed more firmly against her skull. He looked like he was about to say something, when the tunnel began to activate again. He glanced at it, looked down at her scathingly, then stowed the gun and whirled around to leave. He disappeared out the cave entrance, and Aria stood trembling. Whether from fear or cold, she wasn't sure. Probably a bit of both.

* * *

Once out of the cave, Saint Dane looked to the lands below him. He concentrated briefly on changing his form, and moments later was soaring through the thin air on ebon wings.

He made his way towards the Milago village. He had business there, after all. As he flew, he contemplated the girl from the cave. This new spirit…Aria…was too bold for her own good. He wondered what had driven her to step after him. Bravery? Insolence? Perhaps she was simply abysmally foolish. Whatever the reason, her sudden lack of fear had irked him. She had gone from terrified to inquisitive in five seconds flat. He might have tossed her around a bit had Press not cut their interaction short. He let out a mental sigh as he flew over the forests below him.

No matter. He was certain he had made it clear that he was not to be trifled with. And if he hadn't?

She would learn in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits:  
> Lyrics from Bat out of Hell by Meatloaf


	8. Caves and Querries

As Aria stood trembling in the cave, the jumble of mismatched musical notes grew louder. At last she managed to regain some control of her mental functions, and drew her gaze to the gray, rocky tunnel. As before, the walls of it turned crystal clear, and the end of the spectacle was accompanied by a bright flash of light. She hesitated briefly, wondering if it was possible that those mountain lions had followed her as well.

She let out a breath of relief when she saw who stood standing in the tunnel. It looked as though Uncle Press had gotten out alright after all. When he saw her, his eyes widened and he ran over to her, giving her a quick once-over to make sure she wasn't injured. "Are you okay?" He asked, turning her around to look at her back. "I thought Saint Dane would have made it here before me." His face creased in concern when he saw the wound on her shoulder. A quick glance told him that it wasn't serious – just a scrape.

"He did…" she said, trailing off. She had a lot of questions to ask, but frankly, the scary shape-shifting guy was not one of her immediate priorities. Her uncle seemed to sense this, but if he wanted to know what had happened, he apparently decided that it would be a good idea to let her ask the questions.

It was clear that she was freaking out, and was frantically trying to put things together in her mind. Her mouth was moving as though she were trying to ask several questions at once, but no sound came out. At last she simply stood for a moment, trying to calm herself enough that she could speak coherently. Press gave her time.

At last she seemed to come back to herself. She took a deep breath, and then croaked out, "Where are we?"

Uncle Press replied, "Denduron. That's the name of the territory you yelled into the flume."

She hesitated, not really feeling like that was an adequate answer. "How did we get here? What was that…" she trailed off briefly, gesturing towards the rocky tunnel. "…all about?"

Press evenly replied, "That cave is called a flume. It's a sort of wormhole to different universes. If you call out the name of a territory, it will activate and take you there."

Her eyes widened at this statement. "So wait. I'm in a different _dimension?_ Like, Rod Sterling, Twilight Zone stuff?" She had a bit of difficulty believing that – until she remembered that she had gone from a subterranean cave to the top of a mountain in what seemed like a few short minutes. Not to mention the whole star-field thing.

Press smiled. "Sorta," he said. "The planet we're standing on right now is not Earth. It's an entirely different world, with different people, different plants, different animals…even a different solar system, as you'll probably notice when you take a moment to look at the sky." She vaguely wondered what he might mean by that, but decided that there were more pressing issues.

"So…" she was still having trouble figuring out what to ask, let alone process what she was being told. "I was on Earth, now I'm not. You obviously seem to know about this place. This is where you were taking me." She surmised that that had to be true – why else had they gone to that cave? Why else would her uncle be so calm? Why else would he have that knowing look in his eye, as though he was mentally answering her questions before she even had a chance to ask them? "If I got here by yelling, 'Denduron', that should mean I can get back to Earth by yelling, 'Earth', right?"

His smile turned strange. "Sorta," he said again.

That was all she needed to hear. As much as she loved her uncle, she had no intention of getting involved in whatever he had going on. She had been shot at, chased by mountain lions, and _flumed_ across the universe, apparently. She loved a good adventure, but she decided that she'd had enough of one in the last hour or so to last until she was fifty. She turned around, and standing in front of the flume, yelled, _"Earth!"_

Nothing happened. Uncle Press’s smile became a little sad. "That won't work," he said. "There are multiple Earths. You would have to name the right one."

She whipped around and yelled at him frantically, "Then tell me which one is the right one! One Earth, two Earth, red Earth, blue Earth, I don't care, just get me out of here!" She was nearly hysterical at this point. She began storming around the cave, kicking rocks and looking generally distressed. Press allowed her a few minutes to calm down before speaking again.

"I'm sorry you're taking this so hard, but do you remember why I asked you to come with me in the first place?" Finally, she looked at him. She was still freaking out, but she had at least calmed down enough to listen. "I told you there were some people who needed your help. That's still true; as much as I would like to let you just go home and pretend this never happened, I can't. At least, not yet."

Aria thought she saw something flash through his eyes at those last words. She was still too frantic to care. Finally, after taking several deep breaths, she continued her interrogation. "Ok, fine." This was, in fact, _not_ fine, but she decided to play along until she could figure out how to get back to her own world. "Why are we here? Why am I here? I don't know anything about this place. You do. Why can't you handle it?"

He sighed. "Why don't I tell you about that while we head to where we're going? For now, I need you to change into those," he said while pointing at a pile of soft looking furs and leathers. Upon closer inspection, Aria realized that they were clothing. She frowned, about to argue, when she realized that the furs were bound to be a lot warmer than what she was wearing – namely jeans, and a t-shirt with a light jacket. She glared at her uncle for a moment, still irked that he wouldn't tell her how to get home. Then she grabbed some clothing that looked to be her size and walked to the other end of the cave. Her uncle smiled at her sympathetically, then grabbed his own furs. They turned their backs to each other and began changing.

It took a little while, but Aria finally figured out how to get the odd outfit on. The clothing was surprisingly comfortable. Not something you would get at Nordstrom, maybe, but a far cry from caveman quality.

She looked at the flume again, wondering if this was the only way back to her own world. If she left this cave, would she be able to find it again? A million more questions buzzed through her head, but before she could ask any of them, her uncle turned around with a serious look in his eyes and said, "Before we go any further, do you have anything with you that you brought from Earth?"

She was confused. "Uhhh, yeah, my iPod and fanny pack." She had dropped her bag somewhere back in the caves; probably while she was running from mountain lions. Technically, she also had her underwear on, but decided not to mention that.

He shook his head. "You'll have to leave them here. We can't take anything from one territory to another. Ever. For any reason." He put a great deal of emphasis on the point.

She was about to object, but the look in his eyes told her not to. Instead she simply took off her fanny pack, stowing her iPod inside, and asked, "Why? What's so important about it?"

He paused for a moment before continuing. "Each territory is completely unique. They have, as I said, their own unique people, cultures, and technologies. Not every territory is at the same technological level as our own. Some are more advanced. Others, like this one, are significantly less advanced. Can you imagine what it would do to a culture if you were to introduce a piece of technology that shouldn't exist on this planet for another thousand years?" He said this while nodding at her fanny pack, which contained her iPod among other things.

She thought about that for a few moments before saying, "It would probably cause a huge problem. They might become more advanced than they have any right to be. They wouldn't know how to use the technology, so they might mess things up with it pretty bad." That being said, she wasn't exactly sure what harm they could manage with a music player.

He nodded. "Exactly. It would cause chaos, and could toss the entire territory into turmoil." With that he turned and began walking to the cave entrance. Aria glanced back at the flume once more, then reluctantly turned away from it to follow her uncle.

As they walked away, she began to ask another question. "So what—" She was cut off abruptly as they stepped outside. Her uncle had held up his hand in a gesture to freeze. She wondered what had caused his sudden reaction. There had been nothing out here but rocks and snow a few minutes ago.

He was staring at the yellow spikes jutting from the ground. He glanced back at her, his eyes wide and his body language tense. He held his finger to his mouth in a 'shush' gesture, and softly began walking to the sled under the overhang, taking care to give the rocks a wide berth.

Aria was worried, but still curious. Were the rocks dangerous somehow? Did they have some sort of toxic or unstable properties? Did they perhaps contain some kind of dangerous animal, like a beehive? She decided it would be better to ask later when they were away. She followed her uncle's example, walking softly and not daring to approach the stones.

Quietly, her uncle prepared the sled for use. It seemed to be made out of ropes and carved wood. No metal. A pair of what looked like deer antlers were attached to the front, and seemed to offer some kind of steering. It was more than big enough for two, and as Uncle Press got everything in working order, she realized that the trip down the mountain was not going to be a pleasant one. Although the sled looked sturdy, the slope was steep, and the controls didn't look at all modern. Another thing she noticed, with some trepidation, was that there were long, nasty looking spears mounted on the sides. Were they expecting trouble?

At last her uncle reached into the sled and pulled out a couple of small objects. They looked like wooden whistles attached to long leather cords. He passed one to her, and then put his own around his neck. She followed suit, and together they started pushing the sled. Again, they took care to give the rocky field a lot of space, and soon they were almost to the point where they could just hop in and ride the rest of the way down. Finally, her uncle motioned for her to get in, still being as silent as possible. It looked like whatever those yellow spikes were, they wouldn't be bothering them today. She hopped into the sleigh, sitting on one of the carved wooden seats.

Just as she started to relax, the snow a few yards off to their left started to move. There was a small yellow spike jutting just an inch or two out of the snow. They hadn't noticed it until then because it was so small. Uncle Press looked over at it, then turned back to Aria and said, "Time to get gone." He hopped in and started them moving. Aria gripped the sides of the sled tightly as gravity began taking over.

A few moments later, Aria discovered why the spikes were such a bit deal. Turns out they were attached to something. As she watched, the snow was heaved to the side, and an enormous animal burst up; with an earsplitting roar, it began charging after them.

Adrenaline shot through her body for the third time that day. So much for being quiet. Behind them, the snow began to churn as all of the creatures hidden beneath awoke. There must have been at least a dozen of them, and they all seemed intent on catching up to the sleigh.

Aria's heart was pounding. They looked like giant bears, but not quite like any species she had ever seen before. The smallest among them could contend with a full grown grizzly, and they were faster than they looked. The one that had awoken first was gaining on the sleigh rapidly. It was the size of a small car, with thick, matted grey fur and stupid, hateful yellow eyes. It had a row of sharp, jagged spines protruding from its back, and its maw looked big enough to swallow a beach ball without too much difficulty. As she looked to her uncle, she was surprised to find that he didn't seem terribly worried. Just focused. He had taken over the controls and was making sure they didn't bash into any boulders on their way down. The way things were going, however, it looked like boulders would be the least of their worries.

The bear closest to them was only about ten feet away and gaining speed faster than they were. Finally, Uncle Press spoke. "Take the controls!" He shouted, "I'll deal with the quig!"

Quig? Was that what this thing was called? She didn't take the time to ponder it, as she was now in charge of making sure they didn't die in a collision. Terrified, not knowing what she was doing, she grabbed the antlers and tested the steering. Push left, move right. Push right, move left. Inverted controls. Not too tough.

Unfortunately, she was never much one for sledding, or driving, or racing games – definitely not ones with inverted controls – and her reflexes left much to be desired. She focused everything on the task at hand, and just barely managed to avoid the bounders rushing at her at an alarming speed. She almost hit one, the side of their sled clipping the massive rock. The quig, intent on its meal, wasn't quick enough to dodge and bashed its shoulder into the side, slowing it down. This gave Press enough to time unlash one of the spears from the side of the sleigh. "Nice one!" He called back to her.

Yeah, because she had totally done that on purpose.

By now the other quigs were gaining. They were only about five feet behind the closest one. It didn't look like they would be getting away without some serious intervention. She was gripping the antlers so hard she was afraid her hands would freeze to them. Still, her uncle didn't look too concerned. He looked intently at the incoming quig, and when it got within seven feet again, he called back to her, "When I say, 'now', blow the whistle around your neck!" She was confused. She didn't see what one whistle was going to do against a dozen giant, predatory…uh…quigs. He seemed to sense her doubt. "Don't worry! We only need to get one of them!"

She was still focusing on not bashing them into the side of a boulder, but she managed to grab the whistle and shove it between her lips. She was ready to blow whenever the signal came.

Uncle Press waited, spear poised, standing on a sled that was going thirty miles an hour down a steep, icy slope, as a giant bear rushed forward with the intention of ripping him into tiny, bite sized pieces. He still looked calm. "Ready?" She couldn't really let him know without taking the whistle out of her mouth, so she just waited for the signal. "Now!" He yelled.

She blew. At first her heart sank; the whistle didn't make a sound. She figured it must have been broken. Then, a moment later, the quig behind them bellowed in pain and faltered. It must have been one of those silent whistles, like the ones only dogs could hear.

As the quig opened its mouth to roar, Press heaved the spear straight into its gullet. It hit dead on. Blood spurted gruesomely out of the horrible wound, and the quig collapsed. It clawed at the spear, inadvertently driving it deeper.

The other quigs, to Aria's intense relief, lost interest in them. They all pounced on the bleeding quig, tearing into it like sharks in a feeding frenzy. Aria listened to its pained screams, feeling slightly ill. Quigs, it seemed, were cannibals.

She tried not to focus on what was behind her, instead diverting her attention to what lay ahead. At last, Uncle Press moved back to the front and took over the controls. Aria was glad to sit back and let him deal with the rest of the trip.

Her heart was still pounding from the ordeal. The quig's dying screams rang in her ears. They remained silent for the rest of their trip down the mountain. After a while the snow began to thin, and trees began to appear among the boulders. They had nearly reached the base of the mountain when Press finally spoke.

"So, how are you holding up?" He sounded nonchalant, but Aria could tell he was concerned. He always asked her that after she'd had a bad fright.

She wasn't sure about the answer to that question, but decided to do what she always did. Play it tough until she got her feet back under her. "Fine, I guess. So what were those things?"

Her uncle was starting to slow the sled now that the boulders were thinning out. He pulled back on the antlers and said, "Quigs. Saint Dane put them there to guard the flume. Whichever territory he's on, you can be sure quigs will be there too."

Aria's eyes widened. "He can just, like, summon giant bears to do his bidding?" That didn't seem fair at all.

"Sorta," he said. She wished he would stop saying that. Why couldn't the answer ever be a simple 'yes'? "The quigs take on different form depending on where they are. On Earth they were mountain lions."

Aria remembered something then. She hadn't made the connection earlier, but now she recalled an unnerving similarity between the quig bears and the mountain lions. "The mountain lions in the caves and the bears that were just chasing us had the same eyes." Glowering, hateful yellow eyes…and a nasty disposition.

He nodded. "Quigs always do. It's a dead giveaway. That and the fact that they try to kill anything they see. Fortunately, they're almost always found exclusively near flumes."

That was comforting, but she was still worried. "Uhhh, don't we need to get to the flumes to travel to different territories?"

Uncle Press winced slightly. "Yeah."

Aria's heart sank. It looked like a long hike and some cold weather weren't going to be the only things standing in her way of getting back to Earth.

Finally, the sled skidded to a stop. The snow was just about gone, and a forest stretched in front of them. When they reached the edge of the snowfield, Uncle Press hopped out and tossed his whistle onto the seat. "Let's go," he said, then began walking off into the foliage.

Aria took off her whistle as well, then changed her mind and put it back on, stowing it beneath her furs. If she was going to have any chance at getting back home, she would need that whistle. She took off after her uncle, and decided that it was time to get some more answers. "So, you said you would answer more questions on the way to where we were going. First off: where are we going?"

He glanced back as he replied, "There's a village a few miles away. That's where the trouble is."

She wasn't worried about the distance. She had been on longer hikes before. "So what's going on? Are the people there in trouble? Unless I can help with sewing needles and piano music, I don't think there's a lot I can do."

He smiled back at her. "Trust me, there is."

She sighed in frustration. There were some seriously rough feelings threatening to surface, but for the moment frustration was a good way to keep them at bay.

She decided she needed to know more about the situation. "Ok, so what's the deal? Why are they in trouble? Are they under attack? Dealing with a plague? Natural disaster?" She really hoped not. She couldn't fight, she didn't want to get sick, and she wasn't strong enough to help with reconstruction of any sort.

"No," Uncle Press said, "It's a lot less obvious that all that. Even I'm not one hundred percent certain of what's going on." Oh. How reassuring. "What I do know is that Saint Dane wouldn't be here if something very important wasn't about to happen."

There was that name again. Saint Dane. "Who's he?" She asked, "And why is he here? What is he doing? Why was he shooting at us?" She decided she would like to know as much as possible about the man who seemed to be causing all of her troubles. It looked like his interference was the reason her uncle was here, and therefore the reason she was as well.

"That…is a long story." He seemed to be gathering himself to give a careful explanation. "He goes from territory to territory causing trouble. He finds a point in a world's history that will determine whether the territory continues down a road of peace and prosperity, or falls into chaos. These times are called Turning Points."

This was getting a bit cosmic for her, but she tried to follow along. "So, you're saying that he can travel through time, find a moment in history so crucial that it will make or break the territory, then influence that moment to send the entire world toppling into disarray?" She figured he was about to say, 'sorta'.

"Yes." He replied.

She sighed.

"So…why does he want to do that? What does he stand to gain?" He couldn't just be some cheesy bad guy who wanted to set the world on fire just to watch it burn. He had to have a motive.

"That's…" he paused again. "Also difficult to explain."

He didn't say anything else, much to Aria's annoyance. She was getting really frustrated with these crappy half-answers.

She decided she would approach that later. There were other things she needed to know about. She was quiet for a few moments as she looked around. The forest they were walking through looked fairly temperate. Tall trees with brown bark were spread sparsely around, leaves fanning out, shading them slightly as the trekked along a nonexistent path. "So I couldn't help but notice that he can shape-shift."

"Yeah. That's one of the things that makes him so hard to beat. You'll never see Saint Dane standing at the front of an army calling out orders, or standing in the streets preaching his view. He takes on a new form whenever he goes to a new territory. He may be anyone from a simple merchant to a royal advisor. He worms his way into a society, pretending to offer help or guidance. Instead he's leading people towards disaster."

She let that sink in. "So we might not actually be able to tell who Saint Dane is? He could be anyone?"

Press nodded. "Exactly. Chances are the only way you'll know who he is for sure is if he wants you to know."

Aria shook her head. This was all way too much for her. "So what's to stop him from destroying the territories? It sounds like he has the power to do it. What's holding him back?"

Press looked back at her calmly and said, "That would be us."

Aria's eyes widened. She knew her uncle was pretty awesome, but this sounded a bit out of his league. Fighting a shape-shifting time traveler as he roamed around the universe(s), summoning quigs and bringing about chaos? Even her uncle had his limits.  
And what we all this stuff about 'we'? She didn't know anything about this! This wasn't her battle, and even if it was, she didn't have the skills to tackle something like that. Heck, if he had been so inclined, that Saint Dane guy probably could have killed her twice by now! What in the world – or worlds – made her uncle so certain that she was up to the task?

Sensing her disbelief, Uncle Press continued to explain. "There are people out there whose job it is to fight Saint Dane. They are the protectors of the territories, and it's their responsibility to make sure that he doesn't get away with his plans. These people are called Travelers. I'm one, and so are you."

Aria's head was spinning. They hadn't even walked a mile in this time, but she felt like she needed to sit down. She plunked down on a fallen tree, staring at the dirt. This was way too much for her to take in. Her? A…Traveler? It was supposed to be her job to follow that mad man Saint Dane around the universe, making sure he didn't destroy it? She couldn't even keep Jenna Jordan from destroying her reputation at school!

She shook her head. "No. I'm sorry, Uncle Press, but this is way too much for me. There's no way I can do what you're asking me to. I'm just a kid. I'm a student, a bookworm, a pianist! What do you expect me to do? Just pick up and leave everything I've ever known so I can risk my life fighting quigs, traveling around the universe, following…that guy? He almost shot me! Twice! I was nearly eaten by quigs! Twice! Why couldn't you pick someone else to do this? Anyone else would be more qualified than me. _Anyone else."_

Press sighed.

"I know it's difficult to understand, but you have to trust me on this. You're the right person for the job. In fact, you're the only person for the job. You're the Traveler for your territory. Also, you're wrong about what you're capable of. You're more than qualified for this."

She shook her head again. How could she be? All she wanted to do was go home, curl up in her bed and forget all about Saint Dane, and quigs, and Denduron, and flumes.

They were silent for several minutes. Around them, small creatures roamed quietly about on the forest floor while birds beat their wings noisily overhead. Insects occasionally buzzed by them, and the cold wind drifted silently through the trees.

After a few minutes, Press spoke again.

"It will be getting dark soon, and these woods aren't pleasant at night. We need to get moving."

She looked up at him helplessly. He looked down at her sympathetically.

She stood up, and they started walking.


	9. Understanding

As the sun began to set, they reached the outskirts of the village. In the fading light Aria saw small, simple homes stretching out before her. They were spaced unevenly, with wide paved roads running between them. It didn't look as though they had much in the way of advanced architecture, but the small houses were fairly well constructed, made out of a combination of stone, wood, and some sort of mortar or clay. Looking closely, she though there were some kinds of personal touches on some of the homes, but it was difficult to tell. Daylight was quickly fading. There seemed to be streetlights of some kind by the roads, but they were few and far between.

Aria was baffled. The homes didn't look much more modern than the middle ages, and there didn't seem to be vehicle tracks of any kind. But they had some form of electricity, hence the streetlights. She was curious, and considered asking her uncle a few questions concerning these people's technological capabilities, but before she could she was distracted by what sounded like a horse coming up from the direction they had just come.

They both turned to find a black-armored figure on horseback approaching them. As he drew near, he shouted out, "Oi! You two! It's past curfew!"

Although the man looked imposing, he seemed more irritated than angry – as though they were a couple of hoodlums running amok after hours.

Aria's eyes widened and she looked to Press for guidance. He seemed calm enough, if slightly surprised. He responded genially enough, "Our apologies. We've been traveling and only just got back to the village. We intend to stay at the inn. If you don't mind my asking, when was a curfew implemented?"

The guard paused, looking at him in surprise. "The curfew? It's been in place for weeks. Where have you been?" He seemed slightly suspicious at this point, and Aria shifted uncomfortably. What was their story? She hardly supposed they could tell the guard any semblance of the truth. He would either laugh at them, mark them as crazy, or arrest them for suspicious behavior. Before her uncle could respond, however, a second guard rounded the corner of one of the homes, saw them, and stopped. Aria grew more concerned. Suppose they had to run? There were guards on either side of them, now.

_Run? Forget that. I'm so tired I can barely walk at this point, let alone escape two guards on horseback!_

However, Aria's concerns were unfounded. He sounded genuinely happy to see them. Or rather, happy to see her uncle. "Press!" The guard shouted. "It has been a while. How did your journey go? You have been gone more than three months. I hope nothing went awry?"

The suspicious guard looked back and forth between Press and the friendly guard in confusion. "You know these two?" He asked.

Mr. Friendly glanced at Aria and said, "Only the man. The girl I'm unfamiliar with. A friend of yours, Press?"

Press smiled and responded, "My niece, from the village over the mountain." He clapped a hand on her shoulder. "She's a bright girl, and I thought she may be able to help the situation arising in the village." He winked at her. She decided to stay as silent as possible, so as not to blow their cover. She simply looked at the guards, smiled, and nodded.

The two guards studied the two travelers for a moment. Finally the first guard relaxed and shrugged. "Well, either way, you're out past curfew. There are dangerous animals in the forests, and with our supply of Tryptite dwindling as much as it is, we can't afford to keep the village well-lit enough to keep them out."

Press nodded. "So I take it the Tryptite shortage has gotten worse?" Aria wondered what this Tryptite stuff was, until she realized that it was probably the stuff the streetlights were made out of. It would explain why there were so few of them if there was a shortage. There was barely enough to keep people from bumping into the houses.

The friendly guard nodded. "Indeed. Let me escort you to wherever you're going." Then he added hastily, "For your safety. As Jorith said, there are some dangerous beasts out there." He looked at them in trepidation. Aria wondered why.

Aria blinked and nodded without saying anything. She gave him a slight smile, as did Press, and the guard relaxed. Press thanked him and told him their destination, and they set off. The first guard – Jorith – looked after them for a moment longer and took off in the other direction, waving them goodbye and gruffly wishing them a good stay. "And don't let us catch you out after curfew again!" He shouted in irritation.

Aria glanced up at Press in confusion, jerking her head in the direction of the guard. He had been very awkward when offering them an escort, as though worried they may be offended by the suggestion.

Press glanced down at her and said, "So, I take it you didn't understand any of that?"

Aria blinked in confusion. She may have been new to this place, but she wasn't _that_ lost. "Uhhh, I'm not exactly familiar with local politics, but it seems like they're low on Tryptite, which I assume is that light-giving stuff," she said, pointing to one of the streetlights as they passed beneath it. "And because of the shortage, there's been a curfew put in place so people don't go walking around at night, using it up. Oh, and there are dangerous animals."

Press looked fairly surprised. "You mean you understood everything they were saying from the get-go?"

Of course she did. But it seemed that, for some reason, she wasn't supposed to. "Well, yeah. They weren't exactly speaking another language."

This seemed to pique his interest. "Actually," Press said, "they were." Aria just blinked at him again, uncomprehending, and he continued. "They weren't speaking English. They were speaking the language they evolved on their territory. In fact," he added, "it doesn't really sound anything like English."

"It sounded like English to me," Aria said.

Press nodded, looking at her appraisingly. "Apparently. Normally, Travelers who are new to the lifestyle have trouble picking up the ability to understand the tongues of the people of the territories. It takes them a little while. Then again," he said as he looked away reminiscently, "You _have_ always been an excellent listener."

Aria shrugged. It was true. She had a certain gift for understanding people no one else could – like when she baby-sat. When children are just learning how to talk, and aren't really speaking coherently, most people tend to ignore them. Even their parents, more often than not, just spend all of their time correcting them and trying to teach them to speak properly (what do you expect from a two-year-old? Iambic pentameter?) Aria was never like that. When she baby-sat small children, she would listen to them intently when they spoke to her. She wanted to know what was going on in their minds, try to understand what they were thinking. As a result, she was rather good at it, and the children loved her. It was the same with the old and senile, or the mentally impaired. Aria could pick up on what they were trying to say quicker than anyone else – even their caretakers, usually.

Apparently it helped her with this weird, universal, omni-lingual translation stuff, too.

Aria yawned. She was tired. _Really_ tired. That tends to happen when you come down from several consecutive adrenaline highs.

She watched the black-armored knight in front of them grow harder and harder to see as night fell proper. Soon he was just a vague shape in front of them, only recognizable when he walked under a streetlight. It was a good thing the streets were smooth and wide, otherwise Aria would have fallen on her face half a dozen times. It was strange being in a world that wasn't constantly lit. Lumis was pretty rural by California standards, but there weren't many places you could go that weren't covered in streetlights, porch-lights, headlights from cars, or other kinds of artificial illumination, unless you walked straight out into the nearby woods.

The darkness made her feel isolated, and she was glad her uncle was with her.

She recalled him saying they were staying in an inn, and asked him how far of a walk it was. "Not much farther," he said. He probably knew how exhausted she was. Sure enough, as Aria was pleased to see, it was only about five more minutes before they came upon a building that was larger than the others. It was rectangular in shape, a single story, and it looked warm and inviting. There were light-posts lining the walkway, and hitching posts and water troughs in front of it. It didn't exactly look like a Holiday Inn (or even a Motel 6 for that matter), but Aria practically salivated at the thought of a hot meal and a warm bed. The knight smiled at them and bid them welcome to the village, then lingered around until they got to the doorway. Aria felt that it was a polite gesture, like walking someone out to their car after a visit. She smiled and waved goodbye to him, and he did the same.

The inside of the inn was a bit primitive, but comfortable. They were in what looked like a commons room, with chairs and tables scattered around, and a roaring fireplace in the back. The moment they entered, a short, gruff looking man looked up from the book he was reading. He stood up, marked his place, and strode over to them. "Need a room?”

Press nodded. "Hi, Kren. Yes, and a couple of hot meals, if it's not too much trouble." He reached into a small leather bag at his hip and drew out a handful of small, round objects. He tossed the man a few, who caught them and turned towards a door in the back, grumbling to himself.

"Not too much trouble, he says…" And the rest of what he said grew unintelligible as he moved further away from them. He barked over his shoulder, "Take any of the bloody rooms, they're all open!" And with that he disappeared through the doorway.

Aria looked at Press, who was staring after Kren looking slightly uneasy. His expression mellowed when he noticed Aria watching him, however. "Let's sit and wait for dinner, then we'll find a room and hit the hay." Aria nodded, plunking down on the first chair she saw and wincing. That sled seat hadn't had much in the way of padding, and she was sore. Press sat, and quickly became submerged in thought. They sat in silence until the inn keeper came back with a couple of lukewarm bowls of stew and some bread, setting them down in front of the two with a dull _thunk_. He grumbled something about his wife as he walked away. He went back to sitting by the fire, glared at them once more, and then continued reading his book.

The two ate, Aria practically inhaling the stew, barely even noticing the taste. It wasn't gourmet, but it wasn't terrible either. It was edible. She nearly choked on the bread trying to get it down, then noticed her uncle watching her with a raised eyebrow. She grinned sheepishly and slowed her pace, trying not to make too much of a pig of herself. He dipped his bread in the stew and ate them together. Aria ate one, then the other, keeping them separate. After a while, Press spoke up. "There's something I need to ask you, and it's important." He waited for Aria to finish chewing.

She swallowed, curious, and said, "What's up?"

Press looked her in the eye and said, "Who do you trust most back on Earth? Who would you want, more than anyone else, to know what was happening to you?"

Aria didn't even hesitate before saying, "My parents." Most kids she knew couldn't stand their parents. They had dysfunctional families, or abusive moms or dads, or any number of other things wrong with their home life. That couldn't be farther from the truth in the Callahan household. Aria didn't just love her parents, she _liked_ them, too. She enjoyed hanging out with them whenever time permitted, going out to lunch or the movies, or treating them to ice cream whenever she'd finished a big job. They always thought it was weird, the idea of their _kid_ buying _them_ ice cream, instead of the other way around; but they always let her do it because they knew it made her happy. Besides, she was very fiscally responsible, and could afford it.

However, Press shook his head and said, "Nope. Won't work. Who else, besides family?"

This confused her a bit, but after thinking about it for a moment longer she said, "Kar Kidsby. You remember her, right?" It hadn't taken Aria long to come up with Kar. Her real name was Karin, but she hated the name because it sounded too normal. Kar was literally one of the only two people in the entire town of Lumis around her age who regularly spoke to her. Her and Thomas "Tommy Gun" Welch. The three of them made up the outcasts of Del Aurum sigh school, and were all tormented on a regular basis by Jenna Jordan and her posse.

Press grinned and said, "I remember." He had taken Kar with them on a few of their outings in the past, and one time she had managed to get stuck at the top of a colossal pine tree, saying she was looking for Jubjub birds. Uncle Press had had to climb up and help get her down. Another time she had climbed to the top of a heavily guarded national landmark and gotten halfway through a Navajo rain-dance before she found herself surrounded by security guards screaming at her to get down. They had been about to tase her when Uncle Press showed up. He somehow managed to calm all the security guards down and convince Kar to get off the monument.

She was very eccentric, to say the least.

Aria tilted her head at him, nibbled a bit more bread, and inquired, "Why do you ask?"

Press paused for a moment, then said, "It will be important for you to write down what's happening to you, and you'll need someone to take care of these journals for you."

This got Aria's attention. For Kar to take care of her journals, the journals would have to get to her. If there was a way for the journals to get home, there was a way for her to get home.

Press saw the interest in her face, and said cautiously, "I'll let you get started on your journals tomorrow, but tonight you need to rest. It's been a long day. Besides, I don't have any paper." He shrugged, popped the last bit of his bread into his mouth, and stood up. "Time for bed."

Aria was keen to know how he intended to get the journals back to Earth, but the moment he said the word "bed", fatigue hit her like a tidal wave. She nodded, quickly cramming the rest of her food in her mouth, and followed his example. They bade the inn keeper goodnight (he grunted irritably at them) and walked down the hall to find a room. What the inn keeper had said was accurate: they were all empty. As they ducked into one of the doorways, Press spoke, slight concern lacing his voice. "You know, it is odd that there are so many open rooms. Normally they're at least half full of Bedoowan from the neighboring village, here visiting friends or family."

He seemed perturbed. It sounded like when he had left, these Bedoowan and Milago characters had been getting along with barely a hitch. Now they were…well, not.

The room was fairly dark. There were two beds, one on either side, and a small table next to each. It seemed that what Uncle Press had said about them hitting the hay was accurate as well. The beds really were just hay covered with leathers. A thick cloth blanket lay on top of each one, as well as a small pillow. Aria didn't even hesitate before collapsing onto one of them, kicking off her shoes, lying down, and drawing the blanket over her. Press came over, placed a hand on her on the shoulder, and said, "Night, kid. Get some sleep, because we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Aria yawned, eyes already heavy, and asked, "What are we doing?"

Press's eyebrows creased. He walked over to his own bed and sat down, kicking off his shoes. He looked out the small window between them, and said, "We're going to figure out what in the world is going on here."

Aria was already asleep  
________________________________________

As Aria struggled out of sleep, she clung to the remnants of an odd dream. Something about running through a bunch of tunnels after a dark figure. She recalled having cornered him, but for whatever reason, she had been the one who had felt like she was out of options. There had been more, but it was hard enough hanging on to that much.

Finally she cracked an eye open, expecting to see the ornately painted walls of her bedroom. She didn't.

Her eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright in bed. Looking around in a panic, she tried to piece together where she was. After a moment, it all came flooding back to her and she exhaled as she relaxed. Then she panicked again.

Press was gone.

She looked around, not that there was anywhere for him to hide in the small room. She started hyperventilating, then she forced herself to calm down and tackle the problem mentally. First step: isolate the problem.

She was in a strange village, on a strange world, and knew absolutely no one here except for her uncle.

That brought her to the next issue – her uncle was gone.

She took a deep breath and looked around. There was no sign of a struggle, and, tired though she was, she would have heard the sounds of one at any rate. He hadn't been taken, which meant he most likely left willingly. She had just come to the conclusion that he was probably only stepping out for a few minutes, or sitting in the common room eating breakfast, when she saw that his bed didn't look like it had been slept in. This worried her. Had he grabbed another room? She couldn't imagine why. She had no trouble sleeping in the same room as him – they had often shared a tent while they were camping. When they needed a tent at all, that was.

She shook her head. He was probably just out in the common room. She stood up, wobbled a bit, still disoriented from sleep, and went out to find Press.

She expected him to be sitting near the fire, eating breakfast, ready to playfully scold her for sleeping in so late. Instead, the only people out there were a couple of knights, who were sitting around discussing something, and the innkeeper, looking surly as ever. He glared wearily at her as she walked out. He looked like he hadn't been up long, either.

"Excuse me," Aria said, "Was my uncle out here earlier?" She took care to be exceptionally polite. He looked like he might throw something at her if she irked him too much.

"Nope," he grunted. He didn't say anything else.

She suppressed her impatience and growing concern. "I see…well, is there anywhere he might have gone?" Again, she put on her most calming, polite demeanor.

"Might've gone to hell, same place I wish you'd go," he barked impatiently. Aria winced, and decided that she wasn't having any luck. She murmured a quick, awkward, 'thank you', and walked over to the two knights. They might have seen him.

Their helmets were off, so she could see their faces, and the tired concern on them. They both looked to be in their late twenties or early thirties, both pale, one with shoulder-length brown hair, the other short, tousled blonde. They looked up as she approached, seeming a bit surprised to see a tired-looking, anxious young girl approaching them.

She froze up a bit as she began to talk. "E-excuse me, have you seen anyone else in here this morning? A tall man with longish brown hair and brown eyes?" Her anxiety wouldn't let her stay still, and she shuffled uncomfortably as they looked at each other.

After a moment of silence, the blonde one, without saying anything, pointed at his partner. Aria realized that the first knight matched the description she had just given. She smacked her palm to her forehead.

"Uhhh…right. Anyone else?" She squirmed uncomfortably as they started to laugh. She knew the laughter was lighthearted, but back at Del Aurum, laughter in her vicinity was often aimed at her, and with malicious intent.

Spotting her discomfort, the two knights stopped quickly, giving her an apologetic smile. The brown haired one who shared her uncle's description said, "I'm afraid we're the only ones who have been in here for the past hour, aside from ol' Kren," he added while jerking a thumb at the innkeeper. He was counting out small, round objects like the ones her uncle had tossed him last night. Obviously a form of currency.

"I see...er, well, thank you for your help," she mumbled. "Have a nice day." She quickly turned around and headed back to the room, more to get out of the encounter than anything. The two knights wished her the same, and after a quick, concerned glance, went back to their conversation.

Aria ducked back into the room, closed the door, sat on the bed, and began hyperventilating again.

Her uncle was gone. She was alone in unfamiliar territory with no idea what to do, no money or supplies to help her survive, and no idea of how to get home. She supposed she could try to head back to the cave on the mountain, but without hiking equipment, there was a very real chance that she could die before she got back to the – what had Uncle Press called it? – The flume. And then there were all the quigs she would have to deal with.

No, she decided. She would just…wait for Press to come back. She relaxed slightly at the thought of this. She knew he would never, never abandon her like this. Not of his own free will, anyways. No signs of a struggle, she reminded herself. Nope, she would just wait there until Press came back.

Hopefully she wouldn't have to wait too long.


	10. Found and Lost

_One. Two. Three. Five. Seven. Eleven. Thirteen. Seventeen. Nineteen..._

In order to pass the time while waiting for her uncle to return, and distract her from her growing concern that he wouldn't, Aria was calculating prime numbers in her head.

She got all the way to six-thousand, nine-hundred and forty-seven before he walked in the door.

"Six-thousand, nine-hundred and fifty…" She looked up as the door swung open.

Press ducked in, looking around guiltily, and upon seeing Aria sitting up in bed with a frantic look on her face, winced. "I see you're awake. Have you been up long…?" He trailed off, watching her eyes widen. She had been sitting there for well over an hour waiting for him to return. He got an expression on his face as though he were bracing himself for the outburst. He wasn't disappointed.

Aria let all the anxiety that had been building up pour out of her in a frantic flow of words. "Where _were_ you?! I woke up and you were gone, and your bed hadn't been slept in, and I don't know anything about this place, and the innkeeper is an _arse,_ and I had to go ask everyone if they'd seen you, and…" She left off as Uncle Press held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Sorry, kid, I had to run an errand. It took longer than I thought it would. I meant to be back before you woke up, but…" He shrugged apologetically, and after staring at him wide-eyed for a few more moments, sighed and rolled her neck.

She forced herself to relax, taking deep breaths. He was back, and so there was no need to keep panicking. He obviously hadn't meant to scare the living daylights out of her, so she decided to let it go. She was terrible at holding grudges, anyway.

She sighed. "It's ok." Then she scrunched up her eyebrows and asked, "So what's going on? Where were you? What are we doing now? And, uh, can we get some breakfast…?" Her stomach growled loudly. She could really go for a pop-tart right now, though she doubted that such a thing would be on the menu.

Press grinned, and said, "I'll fill you in while we eat." With that he turned and headed out the door.

The two knights were still sitting there, and nudged each other when they saw her and Press walk out. The blonde one smiled at her and gave a small wave, obviously glad that she had found who she was looking for.

She returned the smile and the wave, then ducked her head shyly and went to sit beside her uncle. With a word to the innkeeper, Kren, breakfast was on its way.

As they sat waiting for the innkeeper to return with their meals, Press slumped into his chair, looking fairly exhausted. "So where were you?" Aria asked. Press shook his head as though trying to clear his thoughts.

"Ah, I'll tell you later. Tonight, maybe." He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow as she began to protest. Although she was buzzing to know where he had been, she held her tongue. If Press said he would tell her eventually, he would tell her eventually.

Still, she twitched her nose in irritation. Press knew she was irritated when she twitched her nose. That, or she was about to sneeze. She was one of the only people she knew of who could intentionally twitch her nose, aside from some skinny guy on the water-polo team back at Del Aurum. At any rate, if he wouldn't tell her where he had been, perhaps he would tell her where they were going. "Well, then, what—"

She was cut off as Kren came back with their breakfast. It looked like porridge, though it was slightly orange and smelled oddly nutty. Like the stew the previous night, it was lukewarm and delivered with a scowl. "Thanks, Kren," said Uncle Press as Kren stalked away. He grumbled something about his wife again as he galumphed back to his seat. _Maybe she's the cook,_ Aria thought.

Stomach growling, Aria forgot all about her previous question as she practically dove headfirst into her bowl. She always ate too fast. For such a small person, she could eat a surprising amount in very short periods of time. Her father occasionally joked about it when they went out to dinner. He would put on a cheesy British accent like you hear on the nature documentaries and say, "Ah, yes, the elusive Aria, also called the _Aria Sushigluttonus,_ capable of eating up to half her body weight in sushi in under two minutes…" She would then proceed to wad up a piece of napkin, dunk it in her water, stuff it in her straw, and blow it at him like a spit-wad. He would try to retaliate, and mom would jab them both with her chopsticks and tell them to stop embarrassing themselves in public.

She felt a sudden pang of homesickness, but tried to ignore it and focus on her food.

Press watched her with amusement for a moment, shook his head, and got started on his own meal. The sun had only just risen. Aria estimated that it was around seven o' clock, though she couldn't tell for sure, as she didn't have a timepiece. She was slightly resentful about having to leave her books and music behind, and she felt some distinct trepidation at the thought of them being stolen or destroyed by the elements. She'd had her iPod for so many years that it was practically a friend. Her parents had continually offered to get her a new one, since the old one was so out of date, but she vehemently refused. As for the books, they belonged to the library. She'd never lost a library book before, and hated the thought of getting a lost-fee put on her record.

 _Typical,_ she thought. _Stranded on an alien planet, no way to get home except up a giant mountain and through an army of ravenous quig-beasts, and what are you worrying about? A_ lost fee.

Of course, it's always easier to focus on small problems when the large ones are so great as to seem insurmountable. Nevertheless, it didn't pay to ignore the elephant in the room. To that effect, she forced herself to turn to the task at hand.

"So," Aria asked carefully once her uncle had finished his strangely orange nutty porridge. "What's the plan?"

Press looked at her thoughtfully, actually going so far as to rub his chin. "Well, we need to find more information on the Tryptite shortage and what kinds of effects it's having on both tribes." When he finished saying this, he nodded slightly as though making up his mind on something. "I intend to head over to the Bedoowan village, near the cliffs, and get some answers there."

Aria nodded, looking interested. "Ok, sounds good. When do we leave?"

Press grabbed their bowls, placing one inside the other and setting them aside. "I'll be heading over there shortly. You, on the other hand," he said as her eyes widened in trepidation, "Will be questioning the Milago here in the village. Since you already have no problems with their language, there's no need for me to walk around translating for you."

She looked at him with an expression bordering on horror. He _was_ abandoning her!

She shook her head. "Uh, no way. I don't know anything about this village. How do you expect me to just walk around, casually mining for information when I'm bound to stick out like a sore thumb?" She would probably get herself arrested for suspicious behavior. "No way am I tackling this alone. I'm sticking with you." She folded her arms and tried to look confident. Truth be told, she was less concerned about blowing their cover than she was about being left alone in unfamiliar territory. Her family had always encouraged her to explore the world on her own, but as a general rule she didn't go _anywhere_ without first reading about it, seeing pictures of it, planning out an agenda, and ensuring she had at least three different ways to get home. She wasn't an on-the-fly kind of girl.

He grinned at her. "Come on, kid. You've done scarier things than this," he teased. Strictly speaking, it was true. She had traveled out of state on a number of occasions, visited some pretty intimidating cities, and had even gone to a few foreign countries. But this was different. Paris she could look up on Wikipedia or read about in a travel guide. Besides, he had never left her alone in the middle of some backwater village with no way to contact him and told her, "Figure out why everyone's pissed off!" He had always been with her.

"I can't…" she trailed off, looking slightly desperate.

His face took on a more serious look, and his voice was encouraging. "Yes, you can. You're smart, and you're resourceful. You're good with research. Once you find a lead, you chase it down to the last footnote. It's very important that we get this information. I wouldn't be putting this on you if I wasn't confident that you were up to the task. Besides," he added with a small smile, "You won't be totally alone. There's another Traveler in the village."

This made her ears perk up. He saw this and continued. "His name is Alder. He's native to this territory. He should be able to help you figure out what's going on here."

Aria was torn. On the one hand, she didn't want to be left alone. On the other hand, she wouldn't be completely alone, and besides, her uncle needed her help with this. Suddenly her eyebrows creased in confusion and she asked, "Wait, don't you just introduce me to Alder, and _he_ can tell me everything that's going on here? I mean, he lives here after all." Part of her already knew the answer to that question. As any decent researcher knows, you can't get all your information from one source, no matter how reliable it may be.

Press raised an eyebrow. He knew that she knew the answer to that question. "It's best to get as wide a variety of information as you can. As an outsider, you may have access to information that a native won't."

Aria sighed and shook her head, but arguing any further was a moot point. He was set on this. "Alright," she consented. "I'll stay here and mine for info. But if you don't mind my asking one more question," she said as Press grinned at her good-naturedly, "Why are we in such a hurry to get this done? Why don't we both look for information in the Milago village today, and hit the Bedoowan village tomorrow? What's the rush?" Really, it didn't seem like the Tryptite was going to run out by next Tuesday (if they even had a Tuesday here). There didn't seem to be anything immediately threatening their existence. Surely there was enough time to be cautious and thorough?

But Press shook his head. "We could, but I don't feel like that would be a good idea. I can't help but feel that things are going to come to a head very soon."

Aria didn't generally accept, "I have a hunch," as an answer. She generally didn't accept anything as an answer unless you wrote her an essay on it, included a works cited page, and got it graded and approved by a teacher. And even then, she was cautious.

But the look in her uncle's eyes made her uncertain. She let any further objections go, and simply nodded.

They stood up to take their leave, Uncle Press tossing a few quills to Kren on the way out and thanking him for the room and food. Kren didn't even say anything this time, merely catching the quills, shoving them in his pocket, and grunting at them as they walked through the door.

As they walked briskly to the edge of the village, where Press would begin his trek to the Bedoowan town, he filled Aria in on some of the basics and gave her a cover story. If anyone asked, she was from a village over the mountain, visiting with her uncle, and she wanted to learn more about their peoples during her visit.

He also filled her in on the basics of the recent history. Apparently the Bedoowan used to rule over the Milago with an iron fist, forcing them to mine a mineral called Glaze. The Glaze was valuable, but mining it was hazardous, and the Milago were dying off. The Milago planned to use another mineral called Tak - a soft, malleable substance that exploded violently when thrown or lit - to destroy the Bedoowan. Something in the plan went wrong, however, and for some reason the Tak mines underground caught fire and exploded, destroying both the Bedoowan castle and the Milago village. The two tribes have since had to work together in order to survive, and have forged a strong alliance. This revolution happened around 15 years ago. In the last year or two, however, there has been a dangerous shortage of Tryptite. The Tryptite used to come from another foreign village; they traded it for Glaze. Now that the Glaze wasn't being mined, the Milago and Bedoowan couldn't afford the Tryptite.

The Milago and the Bedoowan had always lived in predominantly separate villages, the Bedoowan constructing a town near the cliffs overlooking the sea, where their castle used to be, and the Milago rebuilding their village in roughly the original location, a few miles away. However, they'd been fairly close the last 15 years, mixing and marrying cross-tribe, and visiting each other's villages frequently. It was only in the last six months or so that the separation between the two tribes had become almost absolute.

It was her job to figure out why…from the Milago's perspective, that was.

One other thing Press told her as they drew near the eastern edge of the village was about their government. The two tribes each had their own specialties. Milago were farmers and builders, very good with hands-on work. The Bedoowan were generally more advanced thinkers, and their talents lay among the intellectual. The Bedoowan spent years governing over the Milago, and as such, had taken over primary responsibilities for government. The Bedoowan didn't have all the power, though. Their governing system consisted of a Council of Six, on which sat three Milago and three Bedoowan. Aria filed all of this information away in the extensive corridors of her mental reserve, which was, frankly, considerable.

As they walked and talked, Aria looked around at the village as it slowly came to life. The Milago were an extremely pale-skinned race, so she would at least fit in on that front. Also, they were all wearing generally the same thing – leathers and furs, with relatively few adornments. She would also fit in there. She didn't see much variation, with one exception.

There was a group of girls leaning against a hut, watching them pass. They wore tangles of blue, white, and brown feathers in their hair. One of them appeared to have a wooden nose-ring. They gave her the evil eye and she walked by, and Aria decided that she would stay out of their way. She didn't need to get into a tussle with ye olde Mean Girls on her first day in the village.

Aria thought that the village, though primitive, was lovely. Golden light glinted off the dust motes in the air and shone on the grass lining roads that twisted their way through the buildings. There was no symmetry. The village didn't need it any more than a forest did. While she listened to her uncle's description with one ear, the other was tuned to the sounds of the village. The soft footfalls made by feet clad in simple leather shoes was the white noise, and the birdsong emanating from the surrounding forests rang through the village in a strange, beautiful and discordant symphony. People passed them by carrying baskets woven out of branches and sticks. Some of these baskets held fruits and vegetables, others bread. Still others held swathes of cloth and piles of leathers, and one was filled with sharp-smelling, fragrant herbs. All in all, it reminded Aria of a medieval village from some sort of fairy-tale, and she half expected to see a gryphon fly overhead or a pointy-hatted wizard stroll by.

 _Heck,_ she thought, _they already have the armor-clad knights…though I seem to have missed the towering castle and tyrannical king by a few years._

The village was truly starting to get lively as they reached the road that led to the Bedoowan town. Aria was hit with yet another wave of trepidation at the thought of going back into it alone. She forced that emotion, bordering on panic, down deep, and turned to her uncle.

It had taken them little over 20 minutes to reach the edge of the village, and he had been silently watching her for the last few. She realized after a moment that time had come to part ways for the time being. He looked fairly relaxed, although Aria sensed that he was concerned for her. Nonetheless, he smiled at her and put a hand on her shoulder, saying, "You'll be fine. Ask some questions, find some answers, and get a feel for what's going on here. And ask around for Alder. He's one of the Bedoowan knights who are posted permanently in the village, so he'll either be patrolling around on horseback or at the barracks on the other side of the village." He gestured generally in a direction behind them. "You good?" He asked, slight worry lacing his voice.

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine. After all, it can't be much worse than that time I got lost in France," she said with a slight smile. What a fiasco that had been.

He laughed. "That's the spirit. Don't worry, I'll see you tonight. The Bedoowan town is only a few miles up the road. I should be back before sundown." With that, and one last wild grin, he turned and began walking up the path, quickly being swallowed by the snaking path that forced its way through the foliage.

As she watched him go, Aria's emotions bubbled up, and she was forced to examine them. She recognized the bright tug of curiosity, and a burning need to learn what was going on here. She intended to do her best to help her uncle, but wondered if her skills were adequate to the task at hand. Uncertainty weighed on her, aided in part by an electric anxiety that traced its way up and down her spine, causing her to shiver in the already warm morning. And, of course, fear was waiting in the wings. It always was, like an unsavory friend who's always too eager to help. As Aria turned to look at the village again, preparing to wade back into that throng of foreign life, fear raised its ugly head to offer its assistance again.

Declining politely, she shoved the feeling back down. She took a deep breath, and began to make her way into the throng.


	11. Strange New World

A large, black bird lit on a tall branch overlooking the Milago village. The sun glinted off its beak as it turned its head to watch the progress of two individuals approaching the edge of the forest. A man and a girl.

Anyone watching would assume that they were residents of the village. He, however, knew they did not belong here. They were just as anomalous to this place as him.

Saint Dane watched the pair of Travelers exchange a few words. The man seemed to offer her some assurance before turning to the forest, leaving her alone.

My, my, abandoning the girl so soon? At least Pendragon had had Loor and that fool Osa to tend to him. The girl must have already grasped the gift of tongues; otherwise Press would never have left her on her own.

He toyed with the idea of giving her a proper introduction to the territory, and just how savage it could be. However, Press would be nearing the Bedoowan village before long, and there were preparations to be made. He thought back to Pendragon's own experiences on this territory. The quigs, the Transfers, the arena…

Lacking a human face, Saint Dane smirked inwardly. Never mind; there would be plenty of time to give the girl a proper initiation to the Traveler lifestyle. For now he simply sat, taking a moment to watch her. He expected her to turn and head straight back into the village. Instead, she stood stationary, looking vaguely in its direction. Saint Dane was curious, and with a swift, fluid motion, he was airborne.

He flew towards her, using the northern sun to backlight him and hide his motion. It was unnecessary, as the girl was hardly paying attention to her surroundings. She appeared deep in thought, and with his sharp eyes Saint Dane picked out a series of emotions cross her face, most of them incomprehensible. He thought he saw a brief flash of fear flash in her eyes, but then it was gone. In its place was weak determination, shadowed by uncertainty. Impressive though her fledgling independence was – she had clearly consented to staying here and gathering information on her own – he still felt a stab of disgust.

Whoever this new spirit – Aria – was, she was just the same as the rest. Weak. Idealistic. Selfish…presumably. While he had had the advantage of knowing Pendragon from his earliest days, Press had kept this girl too well hidden. She truly was unknown to him. One of their new strategies, he assumed, keeping the lead Traveler hidden until she was ready to fight.

He was curious, though. He had assumed that Pendragon would be mentoring the lead traveler, that obnoxious boy from Second Earth. Theron. Now, he was a promising opponent, but it seemed that this girl was to take up the mantle instead. Or perhaps it wasn't settled?

With a quiet trill, he circled overhead, watching as she started to make her way into town.

A sliver of anger broke through his musings, and he let out a short screech. Perhaps the emotion was ahead of its time, but it mattered little. Pendragon started out just as ignorant, just as clueless. In time, she would become just as arrogant and self-righteous as he had. As little as he knew about the girl, Press's actions said enough. That he had left her alone so soon spoke volumes, and Saint Dane knew that she possessed the inner strength necessary to fight him. Though it was by no means her fault that she had been thrown into this struggle, he intended to hold her accountable, nonetheless.

She would learn the price of her unwitting defiance before too long.

The thought of vengeance soothed him, and the anger was quelled. With another sharp screech, he wheeled away over the forest, towards the Bedoowan town, to prepare for the arrival of his old friend.  
________________________________________  
Aria heard a screech overhead, and glanced up in time to see a large black bird sailing away towards the forest. She watched it with mild interest until it was out of sight, then turned to go into the village. Bird-watching had always been one of her hobbies.

She sighed, wondering where to begin. Should she just walk up to the first person she saw and start asking questions? Should she try to find some sort of town square where people gathered to socialize? Should she seek out Alder now, or wait to find him until she had gathered a decent amount of information from the townsfolk?

She felt like if she found Alder first, she would be tempted to accept his knowledge as fact and leave it at that. Instead, she shook herself off and decided to just dive right into it – like ripping off a Band-Aid. She took a deep breath and, before she could stop herself, walked up to the first person she saw and introduced herself.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully to the woman she had approached. The woman was perhaps a head taller than her, with grey-streaked blond hair tied back in a pony-tail. She was carrying a basket covered with a cloth, and the aroma of freshly-baked bread wafted out of it. Aria thought she looked like she could be a mom, and sure enough, a moment later three children came sprinting out of a nearby house, zeroing in on her and shouting as they tried to line up behind her.

"I'm behind mom—"

"No, me! Me!"

"Arrrghamamama!"

The oldest of them, a boy of perhaps twelve, was carrying another basket covered with a cloth, pushing at his younger sister's forehead and trying to force her into line behind him. She was meeting him quite literally head on, ardently trying to force her way to the front of the line right behind her mother. The youngest, who couldn't have been more than three and didn't seem to have much of a handle on words yet, just babbled and watched happily as his siblings tussled.

The woman, who had turned to Aria in mild surprise, looked back at her children and sighed. "Calm down you three. Tirk!" She said, clearly addressing the oldest boy. "Keep an eye on your brother. Sera, you take the basket and walk with me."

The girl, who was around ten, looked equal parts happy and annoyed. Happy because she got the place in front, but annoyed because she had to carry the basket. The three looked like they were about to start arguing again, but the woman merely raised an eyebrow, and they obediently took their places in line, occasionally throwing rude facial expressions at each other and generally being children.

It made Aria smile to see that families were families no matter where you went. Then she looked back as the woman made to address her.

"Good morning," she said politely as she started walking. Aria followed, keeping to her left. "Were you looking for something? You seem a bit lost."

Aria shrugged slightly and said, "I'm not really looking for anything in particular. I just arrived in this village last night, so I don't know anything about it." The woman looked at her, again, in mild surprise, and she added, "My uncle and I stayed at the inn last night."

"Your uncle?" The woman replied, glancing around.

"Yeah, he's not here at the moment…I'm on my own for the day." She decided it would be better not to add that he had gone up to the Bedoowan town – at least for the moment.

"Hmm." The woman looked thoughtful, and replied, "Well, I'm taking my children to the marketplace, if you'd care to join us. Where are you from?"

Aria felt optimistic. A marketplace sounded like the perfect place to find out what the village climate was like. "I would love to. My uncle and I are from a village over the mountain. We're here visiting for…" she paused. Her uncle hadn't told her how long they'd be staying. "…A few days, and would love to get to know more about the area."

"A village over the mountain? What is it called?"

Aria said the first name that came to mind, and hoped the woman wouldn't recognize a lie. "Granite Bay."

"Granite Bay? I've never heard of it."

Aria was a terrible liar. Her heart started racing and she pushed her hair back from her face. If she had to keep this up much longer she would begin sweating big time. "Oh, yeah. It's a small village, a pretty long ways away. It's by a huge lake, where the fish run all year round. We get quite rich from selling them. Terrible bear problems, though." That lie came easily enough. Granite Bay was the closest town to Lumis, and their high school mascot was the bear. They were nowhere near a lake, really, but it was an affluent area. Bunch of stupid, stuck-up rich kids.

She looked down at her shoes, then glanced behind them to look at the kids. They had obviously overheard the conversation and were watching her with great interest. Well, the two older ones were. The little one was happily watching a butterfly, stumbling along and largely being held up by his brother.

She guessed they didn't get many visitors, considering how treacherous the mountain was. She hoped her story would hold up.

As it was, the woman didn't seem to have any problems with it. "Well I'm sorry to hear that. We have animal problems ourselves here – not many, usually, but the last few months it's been worse. My husband is a hunter."

Aria was about to ask what had caused the recent animal problems when the girl, Sera, piped up from the back. "My dad brought home a wolf pelt big enough to cover my whole bed! It was huge! He's the best hunter ever!" The little one in the back seemed to agree, making some garbled noises that sounded vaguely like, 'bebunder berber!'

The woman glanced back and raised an eyebrow, looking like she was about the scold the girl for interrupting. Aria quickly intervened. "My name is Aria, by the way." She offered the woman her hand before remembering that she was carrying a large, possibly heavy basket.

The woman turned back to her and looked down at the extended hand curiously. Maybe they didn't do handshakes here. She withdrew the appendage. "Chariti. Welcome to our village."

Aria realized that the village didn't seem to have a name. Odd. She guessed 'the Milago village' was identification enough, but still. Maybe they wouldn't start naming their villages until they built another Milago village. Or maybe they would just call it, 'the other Milago village'. Who knew?

Aria asked her what had caused the animal problem. According to Chariti, the Tryptite shortage meant that there were fewer night patrols around the village, which meant that the nocturnal predators had become more comfortable encroaching upon the surrounding area.

Tryptite again.

"Tryptite…that's the stuff that glows, right? The stuff the streetlights are made out of?" She already knew this, but if she was going to be thorough, she may as well start from the beginning.

The woman looked a bit confused. "Streetlights?"

Aria could have face-palmed. Streetlights were obviously an Earth thing. Instead, she pointed to one of the now-dormant light-sources.

The woman followed her finger. "Ah, yes, those. We used to have more, but the shortage has been so bad lately that most of them have been taken down. Just enough are left up to give the knights light to patrol by." She frowned slightly when she said this.  
"Oh, yeah. We ran into a couple of them last night." At the woman's intrigued glance, she clarified, "We arrived past curfew."

The woman seemed curious. "I see. And what did you think of them?" She asked, looking at Aria closely.

Woah. She was supposed to be the one looking for answers, but it seemed like Chariti was digging for some information, too. She wanted to know how the guards had treated her. Aria noticed that she had seemed slightly perturbed when mentioning the night patrol. Wondering what the woman would think of her description, Aria replied, "They seemed nice enough. One of them was a bit rude, but he seemed more irritated than angry. The other one was very helpful and escorted us to the inn." She didn't want to make it sound like the guard had been pushy or insistent. He really had been helpful.

They had been walking for a while, and the children seemed to have lost interest. Tirk, the older one, had picked up his younger brother, who was now riding around on his shoulders. They were swaying a bit uneasily as Tirk struggled with his new load, but the child was giggling and grabbing at his brother's hair. They stumbled off the road and onto the grass, and Tirk swiped his brother off of his shoulders before they could fall and deposited him safely on the ground.

There were tangles of green plants topped with small orange flowers by the roadside, and the little one began struggling to pull one up. Before they could lag too far behind, Tirk rolled his eyes, yanked the whole plant up, root and all, and gave it to his little brother, who promptly went berserk with happiness. Aria smiled and turned back to Chatiri.

The woman nodded thoughtfully. Aria hoped that she may get to hear her opinion about the night patrols, and wasn't disappointed. "A lot of people are upset about the patrols. They've always been there, keeping the village safe at night, but lately they've been much heavier. It's because of the curfew." She trailed off, looking worried.

That was disconcerting. "The curfew is just because of the Tryptite shortage, though, right? And to keep people safe because of the animal problem?"

Chariti nodded, still looking concerned. "That's what they say, and they may have good intentions, but…" She trailed off, eyes darkening. "We haven't had a curfew in a very long time."

Aria blinked in confusion, then realized that Chariti may have been talking about the time before the tribes were united. She definitely looked old enough to have lived through it if it was only fifteen years ago. "What do you mean?" She wanted clarification. She was curious to hear a first-hand account of the old Bedoowan rule.

Chariti glanced at her. "How much do you know about our village, and its history?"

Aria was cautious about explaining too much. She was, after all, supposed to be new here. "I've heard that those Bedoowan guys used to…" She wondered if there was a sensitive and polite way to say, 'rule you with an iron fist'. "Govern over you guys."

Chariti snorted. "Govern over us? They enslaved us. They forced us to work to death in their mines, and used the products of our labors to make themselves rich and fat. Do you know what Glaze is?" Aria nodded. "Well, back before the Great Battle," Aria thought that 'Great Battle' sounded like it should be capitalized, like the name of a major historical event. "The Bedoowan used to perform 'Transfers'. They would take whatever we had found that day and weigh it against one of our miners." Her voice had grown steadily softer, and Aria realized that she didn't want her children overhearing what she was saying.

Aria glanced back. Sera and Tirk were both trying to listen in, but were also trying not to be noticed. When Aria looked back at them, they quickly lagged a bit further behind, obviously fearing their mother's wrath should she notice them eavesdropping. The little one was still dragging his plant around happily.

She turned back to Chariti and leaned in closer, and she continued, "If the glaze we mined did not weigh as much as the miner, then he was thrown down the mineshaft."

Aria was horrified. Press had said the Bedoowan were bad, but that was gruesome. She wondered if the woman had lost anyone to the ritual, and felt a pang of grief for a person that she didn't even know.

As though that weren't enough, Chariti apparently had more to say. "The entire town was forced to gather each day and watch the event. Even the children. I was little more than a child myself when the Transfers started…"

Suddenly the woman looked tired; Aria wondered how she, or any of the Milago, managed to live with the Bedoowan so peacefully.

She asked, and Chariti sighed and said, "Not all Bedoowan were so cruel. In fact, most of them did not even know that the Transfers took place." Suddenly she got a fierce look in her eyes. "All of them knew about the Arena, though."

Aria was about to ask what the Arena was, but suddenly she was interrupted. A voice called out, "Chariti! Thank goodness you are here! I thought I would surely starve to death if you did not arrive. I was already in the process of building my funeral pyre!"

Aria glanced around. That they had arrived on the outskirts of an open, crowded area. The marketplace, presumably. She saw the man who had called out approaching them. He was fairly tall, with wide blue eyes and smile lines around his face. Chariti barely glanced at him as she continued walking. "Hello, Dellon. What a loss that would have been." Though she said it in a sarcastic tone, Aria could tell that she wasn't really bothered by him.

The man feigned an expression of deep pain. "Ah! Such cold and callous words! What would your children think, if I were to die?" As he said this the three rushed over to him with happy shouts.

The little one yelled something like, "Unccadel! Unccadel!" It sounded vaguely like, 'Uncle Dell', and Aria wondered if they weren't related. She glanced at Chariti.

Chariti rolled her eyes and clarified, "My husband's brother." Aria nodded, trying to hide a smile.

Though he himself was carrying a basket in one hand, he reached down and scooped up the little on in his other arm, saying, "Ah, little Tinil! I pray that your mother treats you far better than she treats me! Clearly she does, though, because if she didn't, you would surely have long since starved to death. As it is," he said, letting out a small huff of air before depositing the child on his shoulder, "You are quite heavy!"

Chariti snorted.

Aria stepped back and watched the exchange. The man, Dellon, chatted with the children while Chariti looked on, contented. Their previous conversation was clearly forgotten, and Aria decided that she could find out more from the other villagers. Chariti and Dellon got into a mock argument over the price of her bread, and at last, with many moans of self-pity, Dellon parted with a few quills and bought half a loaf of bread from her.

As he left, (much to the disappointment of the children), Aria walked back over to thank Chariti for her help.

"Not at all…Aria, was it?"

Aria nodded.

"Hmm. What a strange name. Well, I hope that you enjoy your stay in the village. Do you have a place to stay?"

"Er, I think my uncle knows someone who lives here…do you know anyone named Alder, by the way?"

Chariti thought about it for a moment, then said, "I'm afraid not. This isn't a large place, though. I'm sure if you ask around, you'll find him." As she swapped her bread basket from one hand to the other, the smell of the bread wafted up and hit Aria full on, eliciting a loud growl from her fairly empty stomach. Aria blushed.

Chariti smiled and asked, "Well, I'm glad that you have a place to stay, but do you have enough money to eat?"

Aria replied, "Actually, I lost most of my supplies on the mountain, and my uncle's the one carrying the money." Technically, this was true.

Chariti paused, then smiled. "Here, take this. Hopefully it will tide you over until you find him, or your friend." As she said this, she pulled out the other half of the bread loaf she had sold to Dellon, and offered it to her.

Aria's eyes widened, and she said, "Oh, I couldn't…"

Her stomach disagreed, and rumbled loudly again.

Chariti laughed, and said, "Don't worry about it. Our family is far from poor. We can afford it."

Aria blinked, and said gratefully, "Thank you very much." She took the bread and stole a quick bite. It was still warm, and crunched lightly in her mouth. It was delicious. Her enjoyment must have shown on her face because Sera suddenly piped up.  
"My mama makes the best bread ever."

Chariti looked sharply at her daughter, but Aria grinned and said, "I can't help but agree," to which Chariti couldn't help but laugh.

With a few goodbyes, Chariti and her children were on their way. Aria stood in the sunshine, munching on her bread, feeling warm in more ways than one. She decided to find some shade to stand in while she ate, but as she looked around she realized that there was almost no shade at all.

That didn't make sense. After all, the sun was right…

She looked up to find its position in the sky, and her jaw dropped.

That's too many! She thought as she looked around in confusion. There were three of them. Three freakin' suns.

How had she missed that?

The enormity of the situation suddenly hit her. She was standing alone, in a village that could belong in the Dark Ages, surrounded by people whose culture and history was so different from her own that she stood no chance at relating to them, and to top it all off, she was on a completely different planet. A different planet. Her uncle had told her this already, yes, but it hadn't really meant anything to her. It was such an, forgive the pun, alien concept to her that the words themselves may as well have been gibberish.  
And she was alone.

She stood for a moment, panic threatening to overwhelm her again, when she noticed Chariti's youngest, Tinil, watching her from across the road. His mother stood with his back to them, bartering with another villager, and the other two children were looking at some toys another woman was selling.

Suddenly, Tinil ran over to her, the orange flower his brother had picked for him still clamped tightly in his small fist. When he reached her, he thrust the flower at her, smiling widely. He was missing his two front teeth. It was fairly adorable.  
She blinked, and took the plant, flowers, roots, and all. Before she could say, "thank you," he had turned around and dashed madly back to his mother, wrapped his arms around her leg and buried his face in her clothes shyly.  
Aria blinked again, and she looked at the flower he had given her. She thought about the way he and his siblings had played and argued on their way to the market, and about the teasing exchange between Chariti and her brother-in-law. It dawned on Aria that, as strange as this place was, it really wasn't completely alien.

The panic began to slide away. She looked at the bread Chariti had given her, stuffed the last bite in her mouth, and smiled.

She decided the suns didn't really matter. She plucked a stem of flowers off the plant, stuck it behind her ear, and dove into the mass of people.


	12. Starting to Clique

Aria spent the next several hours talking with the Milago, collecting information and gauging the all-around mood. She wasn't the most outgoing person – socializing wore her down pretty quickly – but she did manage to get what she was looking for.

She learned that the Tryptite shortage had been going on for several years; it was only in the last one or two that the high council decided that they needed to regulate it more strictly. The regulations included rations and a curfew. Almost no one personally owned any Tryptite – it was all used for public goods and services.

No one had argued over the rationing. It was the curfew that had people riled up. The Milago hadn't had to deal with a curfew since the days of their enslavement, and while the younger generation was merely annoyed, the older generation ranged from suspicious to downright umbral.

It seemed that another issue that had the Milago on edge was the increase of Bedoowan guards. Although they said they were here to enforce the curfew and keep the beasts at bay, several villagers had told Aria about various incidents of abuse; one old man told her about how his daughter had been arrested without cause. A child told her about his father being badly beaten over a mild argument with one of the guards. One of the vendors had had his goods confiscated. He was never paid for them, nor were they ever returned.

Such injustices had been common during the Bedoowan years – as had other, far great cruelties.

Aria felt ill after having listened to all the tales of bloodshed and misery that the Milago had suffered at the hands of the Bedoowan. She met a few people who had lost family members in the Glaze mines, and one whose son had been lost to a Transfer. She also learned about the arena Chariti had mentioned before they parted ways.

One elderly Milago villager had recounted his own experience.

"The Arena used to sit up on the bluff," he had told her, nodding in the direction of the new Bedoowan town. "They would gather us up – people who couldn't pay their debts, petty criminals, conspirators, or anyone they didn't like. Some of us were just forced to watch; that was bad enough to scare us into obedience. We were given a place in the stands apart from where the rest of the Bedoowan would gather to watch the…show," he had said this a pained scowl. "They gave the Milago nothing more than a small spear to defend himself with. Then they opened the gates."

The Bedoowan had kept quig-bears at the ready to use for sport. Just as the Romans used to feed Christians to the lions, the Bedoowan fed Milago to the quigs. What had sickened her most of all, however, was not the old man's description of the massacre. It was the description of the crowds.

"They laughed," he said simply. His eyes had been dark and sad.

Bedoowan, of all ages and genders, even children, she was horrified to learn, gathered to watch the bloodbath. It was like Sunday television to them. They would laugh and cheer as the defenseless Milago was ripped apart.

She had thanked the old man for recounting the tale; she knew it couldn't have been easy to remember. He had replied, "I tell people the way it used to be in the hope that it will never happen again."

"Those who fail to learn their history are doomed to repeat it," she had said. He had looked at her shrewdly and nodded, then walked away.

By the end of the day, she had learned a few key concepts:

One: The way the Bedoowan had treated the Milago was beyond cruel, and while the younger generation – anyone younger than twenty or so – was largely unaffected by it, the older generation was still scarred.

Two: The Milago were beginning to suffer similar injustices and constraints, though not on nearly as large a scale, and the Bedoowan were again to blame.

Three: All the current problems could be traced back to Tryptite.

The general mood amongst the Milago was one of angst and suspicion, though not everyone shared that viewpoint. Many Milago had friends and family who were Bedoowan. They believed that while the regulations on Tryptite were difficult, they were also necessary. All they wanted was for things to calm down again and go back to the way they were a decade ago – peaceful and prosperous.

But, Aria thought as she walked in the direction of the Bedoowan barracks, they seem to be the minority. They were almost exclusively young. The only cruelty they had experienced at the hands of the Bedoowan was through the stories told them by their parents.

On a more positive note, she had learned that for a Bedoowan knight, Alder was a pretty popular guy. He often settled disputes in the village, and he was generally well-respected by everyone. Unfortunately, while everyone claimed to like him, no one actually knew where he was.

Aria sighed heavily and honestly felt like crying. It had been a hot day – the climate was usually cooler, she'd been told – and she had been out in the sun, or suns, for hours. She'd had nothing to eat since the bread Chariti had given her, and if she hadn't had that to tide her over, she probably would have collapsed by then. She had a high metabolism, and tended to eat frequently. She didn't handle hunger well.

The suns were getting lower on the horizon. Shadows were finally inching along the grass-strewn ground, and Aria figured she probably only had a couple of hours until sunset, and curfew. As she turned another corner, heading towards the barracks where she hoped to find Alder, a rock flew past her face.

The stone had been thrown from behind. She turned around slowly and saw three people standing in the shade of one of the buildings. They were the same girls she had seen earlier while walking with Uncle Press to the edge of the village; the ones who had given her the stink-eye. She had hoped that they were just the kinds of people who looked at everyone that way, and that they weren't singling her out for punishment.

Silly her.

They looked like your typical clique, with one ringleader and a couple of lackeys. The leader of the bunch, standing in front and giving her a thoroughly intimidating glare, had dark brown hair that fell in slight waves to her shoulder. It would have been rather beautiful if it hadn't been so frizzy and stringy. She had small, black eyes and a somewhat tiny nose. It wasn't a very attractive combination.

That being said, standing between the other two, middle girl looked like Miss Milago. The others were on opposite ends of the ugly spectrum. One of them was bulky, with asymmetrical features and a large, square forehead covered in short, shaggy blonde hair. The other was extremely tall and very scrawny, rather rat-like. Her eyes seemed to be permanently crossed and her brown hair was extra-long, and so oily it could have been greased with yak fat. In her nose was a small wooden ring.

Together, these girls managed to encompass a nearly comprehensive collection of unattractive physical features. Not that she was usually judgmental - she had been raised with the firm belief that it was what was on the inside that mattered, not the outside.  
Of course, if their actions so far were any indication, they weren't much prettier in there than they were out here.

"Er, good evening. Can I help you?" Aria asked politely as she glanced around at her surroundings. Hopefully they just wanted to talk. If not, she was in trouble. She was hot, tired, hungry and thirsty. If it came down to fight or flight, she wasn't sure she was capable of either.

The girl in the middle scowled at her, presumably aggravated by her polite disposition and seeming lack of fear. Then she smirked. "Well, it would help an awful lot if you closed your mouth and kept it that way," she said, cracking her knuckles. An unpleasant grin stretched across her face, and Nose-Ring started to chuckle.

Wow. These had to be the most generic bullies in the world. Aria hadn't realized people behaved this way in real life - she thought that kind of stuff was only in the movies. Granted, Jenna had always been pretty unpleasant, but not quite to this degree. Aria quickly glanced around, looking for help. Her heart sank. There was no one in sight. She was hoping there would be a guard nearby to keep a fight from breaking out, but no such luck. It was an open kind of area, with large huts spread sporadically around and a few light posts and fences. There were plenty of places to run, but fat lot of good that did her - she didn't know where anything was. She knew the general direction of the barracks, but it was a large village. She could easily run past it.

She decided to stall for time. Everyone was complaining about the increased guards. Hopefully one of them would walk by. "Have I done anything to offend you? I'm terribly sorry if I have." Hopefully her pacifistic words and calming demeanor would keep them off balance.

They began stalking towards her. She decided she needed a new strategy. The one in the middle began speaking, "Yeah, you've done something to offend me. You might have gotten off easy if you had just kept to yourself, but I don't like—"

Aria cut her off. Looking off behind the approaching girls, she called out, "Excuse me, guard? Could you help me, please?"

The three girls whirled around, looking frantically for the knight. By the time they turned back, Aria had a pretty decent head start.

She heard a strangled cry of rage from behind her, followed by a sound she thought sounded vaguely like a bellowing quig. They were coming after her.

Aria did not like her odds. She was lost and alone, it was less than two hours to curfew, she was outnumbered, and she hadn't eaten all day. She hadn't even been running for a minute and she already felt faint. Normally she could handle a good sprint - but with no energy? No chance.

They were starting to gain on her. Aria decided to try for cunning above speed. She made a sharp turn behind a building and made a dash for a nearby horse corral. Her pursuers followed, close behind. Aria hopped the fence and began darting in and out of horses, rolling under them, and making her way to the stables on the other side of the small paddock. The three girls behind her were having less luck making their way through, and the horses were getting agitated, tossing their heads and letting out urgent whinnies.

Aria heard someone call out, "Ay! You girls! Get outta there! What do ya think you're doin'?" She hoped that the presence of an adult would send her pursuers running, but she didn't want to assume. Instead she ducked inside the stables when she reached them, hoping that there would be a window of some sort she could get out of. Sure enough, there were several lining the structure, about five feet from the ground. She nimbly leapt onto one of the sills and glanced behind her to see how close her pursuers were. They were still in the corral, and it didn't sound like they had been dissuaded by whoever had called them out. Aria swung out her legs and fell to the ground. She bent her knees against the impact and sat on her haunches for a few moments, regaining her breath. She looked around to try to regain her bearings, and took a guess as to which way may take her to the barracks. She stood up to continue running, glancing behind her again.

She heard one of the girls in the stables shout, "She got out! She went through one of the windows!" Then a head popped up in her previous portcullis. Nose-Ring. She sneered, then began clumsily trying to pull herself up and out of the window.

Aria didn't give her any time to catch up. As she turned to run, she saw the big girl come barreling around the side of the stables. Adrenaline flooded Aria's system again, and she sprinted in the direction she hoped would take her to the barracks.

Her detour through the stables had bought her a bit of wiggle room, but she noted with despair that she had run herself into a further unpopulated area, with fewer buildings and no people. The edge of the forest was just a little way off to her right, and she realized that she must have missed her destination. She was told it was just on the outskirts of the village in this direction, but she saw nothing that looked like the building they described to her. Her lungs were burning, and her pulse drummed loudly in her ears. Her breath whistled from her throat, and she realized that there was no way she could keep running. She glanced behind her.

The girls had largely regrouped, big girl in the lead, with the other two close behind. Aria was panting with exhaustion now, and while she was looking back, she went off balance. Her ankle twisted beneath her. With a breathless shout, she pitched forward, curling her head to her chest and hitting the ground with her shoulder. She rolled rather than sprawled, something her uncle had taught her. She tried to use her momentum to get right back up and keep running, but she was spent. Her muscles had turned to jelly, and as she regained her footing, her legs buckled and she skidded to a halt on her knees. She simply sat there for a few moments, head hung, panting heavily, sweat making her odd leather clothing cling and chafe. She heard the footsteps pounding towards her slow, then peter off as the three girls positioned themselves around her. The big one was panting like a dog, and Nose-ring was wheezing slightly, but the ringleader seemed pretty much fine.

Not fair.

Aria glanced up at her, then huffed out, "Huh. You caught me."

The girl glared down at her with a scowl on her face. She obviously didn't like having to work for her beatings. "Yup. You're fast, brat. But that ain't gonna help you any now. You may have worn them down, but I'm still ready to go, and let me tell you..."

She trailed off as Aria held up her finger, signaling that she wanted to speak. The girl just stared at her blankly, obviously confused by the fact that Aria still didn't look the least bit intimidated. "If you don't mind my asking," Aria began, still panting slightly, "Who exactly are you?"

At this the girl started to grind her teeth. Aria couldn't help but think, that's unhealthy. You'll wear down your enamel doing that. Finally she spat on the ground and cleared her throat. "That," she said, jerking her thumb at Nose-Ring, "Is Rill. She," she continued, nodding at the big girl, "Is Dakka. And I," she said, drawing herself up to her full height and smirking, "Am Jani."

Aria glanced around. By this time, she had mostly regained her breath, though she didn't bother getting up. She was still feeling faint with hunger and fatigue, and was probably about to get knocked right back down in any case. This is not going to be fun.

She sighed, "Look, Jenny…"

"Jani," she snarled.

Aria continued as though she hadn't heard her. "Listen, I don't know what I did to piss you off, but—"

She was interrupted. Nose-Ring – Rill – broke in and said, "We been watching you. You been digging around in our business. Outsider."

Dakka, who was standing to Rill's left, growled, "Jani doesn't like outsiders." She cracked her knuckles and spat on the ground, obviously prepping herself for a fight – not that Aria was going to put up much of a struggle.

Aria decided to try for diplomacy one more time – after all, what did she have to lose?

She cleared her throat and said, "I apologize. I didn't realize I was doing anything wrong. I swear I'm not here to cause anyone any trouble. I'm only—"

She was cut off by Jani, who did not sound the least bit placated. "I don't care what you're here for. When I'm done with you, you're gonna be running out of this town. As soon as you're able to walk, that is." With that she began stalking forward, fists clenched, muscles taut.

As Aria watched, Jani's face lost its expression of conscious anger, and fervor appeared in her eyes. Aria stilled. Her attacker was about to go on a violent autopilot. She felt a genuine chill up her spine. This wasn't going to be one of those schoolyard tussles that ends with a few bruises and a black eye. She could really get hurt.

She thought the other two had moved in behind her, but she was so focused on Jani that she couldn't be sure. The sun was now backlighting her, making it hard to see her face. Aria saw a fist come up, and she pulled her head in, raised her arm, clenched her jaw, and prepared to take a hit.

Jani let out a small huff of air as the blow came down – then a startled, angry screech. Aria glanced up, hoping that the next thing she saw wasn't going to be a collection of knuckles. When she peered through the sunlight, she felt a flood of relief.

A tall man in black armor was standing behind Jani, holding her arm and keeping her from throwing the punch. Aria glanced behind her and saw the other two girls backing off quickly. Then the knight said in a deep, calm voice, "I don't think that's a good idea."

Jani was glaring at the man and almost shaking with pent up adrenalin. She had obviously psyched herself up for a major beating, and was having trouble reigning herself back in.

Aria stood slowly, legs wobbling from exhaustion, and got a good look at the knight. He was at least six feet tall, but there wasn't much else she could tell about him, since he was completely clad in armor. A sword rested in a sheath on his hip, but he obviously didn't feel the need to use it. He simply stood, holding Jani's arm in a secure grip, waiting to see what she would do next.

For a moment Aria thought Jani might actually fight; then she snarled something incoherent, and snatched her arm back. She backed off from both of them without turning away, moving to stand beside her two friends. The other two were looking down at the ground, shuffling backwards and seeming eager to get out of there. Jani was glaring daggers at the knight, and as Aria watched, the glare turned to her.

Jani didn't need to say anything. Her eyes promised punishment. The knight looked at her sternly, and Jani gestured to her friends. Without another word they turned and stalked away.

Aria turned to the knight, her breathing a bit labored. She had psyched herself up for a fight, too, but not nearly the same one Jani had had in mind. The knight looked down at her, then relaxed and took his helmet off. He had kind eyes, and concern etched his face. "Hello. My name is Alder. Are you alright?"

Aria just looked at him for a few moments, speechless; then she said weakly, "You couldn't have shown up an hour ago?" She didn't want to sound ungrateful, but really. Talk about dramatic timing.

The knight looked surprised. He opened his mouth to reply. If he said anything, Aria didn't hear it. At that moment she collapsed.


	13. Dream Come True

She stood in the middle of a giant arena, easily the size of a football stadium – where the Milago were brought to die for the Bedoowan's entertainment. Two people stood behind her, and Uncle Press stood to her side. He glanced over at her and said, "I'll bet it's been an interesting few days." She blinked in confusion. He had only left that morning, hadn't he? As she looked around, some part of her wondered how she had gotten to be here. The others were talking, though she wasn't paying attention. She was staring up at the stands. In one section were a small, pale people she couldn't place. Another held Milago, and one more held a similar people – richer, and better cared for by the looks of it. The Bedoowan. In the fourth stand, a fat woman and a sallow man stood, waiting for the carnage. Suddenly the crowds began cheering, and she felt a sliver of fear pierce the haze of confusion. She turned, still unable to see the faces of the people behind her, and beheld the quig.

It lumbered out of the darkness of the cave, scanning the arena for a few moments before taking note of them. As it charged, she felt herself moving forward to face it. She drew the wooden whistle she had smuggled out of the sled to her lips, took a deep breath, and blew.

The quig fell to the ground, thrashing in agony. One of the people behind her, a boy whose voice sounded vaguely familiar, shouted, "What is happening?"

Her uncle turned to them and said, "The quig pens, go!" Then he turned to Aria and said coolly, "Cutting it a little close, aren't you?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but that was when she saw the whistle. It wasn't the wooden one she had brought from the sled – it looked more like a silver dog whistle. Confusion made her mind swirl; she looked around and couldn't see anything familiar. She couldn't see anything at all. Uncle Press' voice shouted angrily from the haze, "I told you, we can only use what the territory has to offer!"

A terrible dread pushed down on her. She was struggling to climb, but she couldn't pull herself up. She had to move, had to climb, had to…

\----

Aria sat bolt upright in bed. Or rather, couch. She was resting in what looked like a commons room of some sort. A couple of men sitting at a nearby table stared at her, startled. They were wearing the boots and leggings of Bedoowan knights, but plain cloth shirts and no helmets.

She blinked, and asked groggily, "Am I in the barracks?"

They nodded, and one of them called over his shoulder, "Oi! Alder! She's awake!" Then he went back to staring at her.

She fidgeted awkwardly, not fond of the attention, and scanned the room she was in. Based on the sparse blue light filtering through the window, it was just past sunset. She noted with some interest that there was no Tryptite in here, and the only light came from fire. The room itself looked comfortable enough, the fire blazing in a grate nearby, a few couches and chairs strewn about, and some tables, like the one the off-duty knights were sitting at, placed casually around the room.

At that moment a man walked in – the Bedoowan knight who had helped her earlier.

Relief coursed through her. She swung her legs around and tried to stand up, but the world spun. She fell softly back down onto the couch. Hey stomach growled.

The knight, Alder, looked at her closely, then smiled. He said, "Wait there for a moment, please." Then turned and walked out another door. Aria obliged – not that she had many options. He returned a few moments later. In his hands were a bowl and a plate, a delicious smell wafting up from them. Aria's eyes widened and she looked up at him hopefully. He smiled again and handed her the food.

Soup, still hot, and lightly buttered bread. She crammed a piece into her mouth before she could even think about it, paused, then warbled out, "Oo are my new fav-it 'erson. 'Ank oo sooo muf." The two knights sitting at the table snorted out some half-stifled laughter, and Alder grinned.

"I'm glad I could help. After the incident near the stables, you fainted. I would have brought you to your home, had I known where you lived. As I didn't recognize you, however, I decided to bring you here – to the barracks. How are you feeling?" He looked at her with bemused concern. During his few short sentences, she had already demolished half her bowl of soup and another piece of bread.

She opened her mouth to reply, thought better of it, and swallowed. She nearly choked on the bread, and let out a few short coughs before responding. "Much, much better now. Thank you. You're Alder, right?" In the glow of the firelight she could see his features better than when he had been backlit by the sun. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with longish brown hair and dark eyes which she had originally mistaken for black. He was extremely large, with long arms and a good layer of muscle. He gave the impression of a very kind man who could beat a quig to death if he needed to.

He nodded, eyebrows creasing in confusion. "I am. Were you looking for me?"

Aria nodded enthusiastically. Finally, a lucky break. "Yeah. My name is Aria Callahan. I'm Press' niece." As she said his name she felt a slight twinge of unease. Uncle Press should have been back by then, but he had neglected to tell her where they would meet up. She supposed he was back at the inn, and hoped she would be able to get there tonight.

At this Alder's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Ah! You are Aria? He has told me much about you. I am glad to finally meet you." Aria paused, her last piece of bread halfway to her mouth. What exactly had Press told him about her? Alder glanced at the other two knights, who were listening intently to their conversation. They seemed to be significantly younger than him; probably in their early twenties. Alder turned to them and asked, "I would like to speak with her alone. Would you give us a few minutes?"

The knights looked a bit disappointed. Still, they shrugged and stood up, glancing back once more as they moved out of the room.

Aria relaxed. They’d been staring at her like she were a two-headed goat at a sideshow. Alder turned back to her and asked, "What brought you to the situation I found you in? And when did you arrive in the village?"

She decided to answer the second question first. "Uncle Press and I got here last night. We stayed in the inn, and he took off this morning to go to the Bedoowan town. As for earlier, I was looking for you when those three ran into me. I guess they just aren't fond of travelers, because they were in a pretty big hurry to run me out of town."

Alder nodded thoughtfully, then frowned. "And when you say, 'travelers'…?"

Aria frowned in confusion for a moment, then it clicked. "Oh! Right. Travelers. I meant the normal kind. But I guess there are the not so normal kind, too." She was still a bit foggy on the whole 'Traveler' concept, but it was at least nice to know that she had something in common with this Alder guy. "You're one too, right? A…Traveler?"

Again, Alder nodded, looking somewhat concerned. "Indeed. Then Press has already told you the basics?" Aria shrugged an ambiguous 'yes', and Alder continued. "Well, it is good that you are here. We will need your help."

At this Aria shook her head. She knew that her uncle had some pretty crazy plans for her, but as far as she was concerned, she was just along for the ride. He – and Alder – could obviously handle it. She would help however she could, but in the end it was their show. She was just waiting for her chance to get back home.

She shuddered as she remembered a bit of her dream. The quig rushing at her, primal fury in its eyes, as the crowds cheered and hollered behind them. She had no intention of getting too involved in this…civil dispute.

Still, she decided that this was neither the place nor the time. Rather than argue the point, she chose to disregard the statement. "Uncle Press said that there was something big about to happen. He asked me to stay here in this village and find out what's going on while he went up to see the Bedoowan and get their side of the story. He also asked me to find you. He said you would help." She didn't want to sound imploring, but the fact was she was lost. She had no idea what to do next. Heck, now that it was past curfew she couldn't even leave without an escort.

Alder looked surprised. "He left you alone to gather information? On your first day on Denduron?" After thinking for a moment, he pulled a chair over and set it across from her. He sat down and continued, "For how long have you known about being a Traveler?"  
Aria snorted irritably. "About a day." She was still irked at her uncle for having left her to deal with this problem alone.

Alder's eyebrows shot up. He tilted his head stared at her speculatively. "He must have a great deal of faith in your abilities to leave you alone so early, intentionally."

Uh, oh. She did not want him getting any wrong ideas about what she was capable of.

"Er, most of that faith is probably misplaced. I really don't have any idea what I'm doing here." Hopefully he would realize that, and not start dumping tasks on her shoulders, thinking that she was some fix-all to Denduron's problems.

Instead, he shook his head. "If Press has faith in you, I do as well." When she made as if to object, he simply raised a hand to silence her, and said, "You said that you spoke to the villagers today. Let us start with what you learned."

Aria sighed, but decided not to argue. She related everything, from the basic history of both tribes to the individual accounts of the citizens. The entire time, Alder listened intently, occasionally nodding or grimacing.

"I see," he said when she had finished. "I suspected that the mood had grown darker, but I did not wish to assume. It would seem that Kore is gaining support."

Aria's eyebrows creased. "Kore? Who is that?"

"He is one of the three Milago council members. Do you know of them?"

Aria shook her head.

Alder explained, "Kore, who has been largely ignored for the past several years, believes that the Bedoowan have not changed as much as the Milago think. He advises that the best way to deal with this 'Bedoowan Threat' is through war." Aria nodded, but felt very uncomfortable. She could deal with a bit of civil dispute. Maybe. But civil war? That was way out of her league. She was liking her involvement in this situation less and less.

Alder said, "Lately, he has been gaining sympathy from some of the more discontent Milago. The elders. The parents. The ones who still remember the old days." He frowned, then his expression lifted. "On the other side is Grail. He is about maintaining peace. He believes that if we can find a way to overcome the Tryptite shortage, then the two tribes will be able to live harmoniously once again. He adamantly opposes Kore." Aria nodded enthusiastically. This 'Grail' sounded like her kind of guy.

"The third council member's name is Maal. Although he is generally open to both sides of the debate, he sides with Grail more often than not, and opts for peace. He works hard to maintain relations between the two tribes, for which Kore is disdainful of him. Still, as long as he sides with Grail, the Milago will not go to war. They have always been a peaceful people, but I fear it would take little to set them on a violent path in these days. Tensions are high, and there is much at stake."

Aria nodded, taking it all in. Grail, Kore, and Maal. She vaguely wondered what the deal was with all the one-syllable names. And no last names, either. She had read somewhere that last names were the result of growing populations. As more people were born, names tended to overlap enough that people needed a way to tell them apart. Even if the Bedoowan were significantly more populous than the Milago, there still weren't enough people around that common names would be an issue.

Suddenly she let out a huge yawn. Despite the fact that she had just woken up, she was still exhausted. Again, adrenaline highs really take it out of you. She hoped that this wouldn't become a daily routine.

Alder noticed her dwindling energy and said, "I believe you need to get some more rest. But first…" He gestured for her to wait there, and left once again. As she waited, Aria wondered where Uncle Press was, and whether he would be looking for her right now. Alder returned within a few minutes, carrying with him some paper and writing utensils. He pulled a table over to the couch, and set the papers down on it. He then placed a long, brown quill and an inkwell next to them.

"Has Press told you about writing journals yet?"

Journals? Then she remembered. Uncle Press had said something about those last night. Aria nodded hazily, and Alder pushed the supplies towards her.

"It is very important that you record all that is happening to you. Please, write it down before you go to bed. I will prepare a bunk for you."

Still worried about her uncle, she protested. "Wait – Uncle Press said he would be back by now. He might be waiting for me at the inn." She didn't want to go running around looking for him, but she didn't want to leave him hanging, either.

Alder nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Do not worry. Sleep here tonight. I am patrolling later; I will drop by the inn and see if he is there, then relay the situation to him if he is."

Aria thought about it. She would be putting a lot of trust in this guy whom she hadn't known for more than an hour, but strangely, the thought didn't bother her. She wasn't a terribly trusting person, usually. But she felt like she could trust this man. She nodded.

"I will leave you alone to collect your thoughts." He glanced down at something, her lap maybe, or her hands, then said, "When you finish your journal, I will deliver it."

This was what Aria wanted to hear about. A spark of excitement threw off the haze in her brain. "And how will you do that, exactly?"

Alder looked at her, slightly amused, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. The thought annoyed her. He laughed and said, "Never you mind. Press will explain it to you. For now, just write. Leave the journals out here for me, and I will see to it that they are delivered." He turned to walk through one of the doors, then glanced back and added, "You will be staying in the fourth room on the right, top bunk. Rest well – I sense that tomorrow will bring trouble."

Aria could see some of that trouble in his eyes, but he quickly hid it with a smile. With that he turned and left.

She looked at the papers and quill in front of her, then turned her gaze to the fire. She watched it for a while, searching for shapes in the flickering flames, allowing her mind to relax and wander.

When the sky outside was dark, and the moon – singular – turned the world greyscale, Aria picked up the quill. She dunked it in the inkwell and began to write.


	14. As the Saying Goes

The girl had her challenges ahead of her. He had his own.

As Aria turned and walked into the village to begin her research, Saint Dane wheeled about and took to the forest. He flew at an incredible speed, borrowed wings skimming the tops of the widely-spaced trees. The suns of Denduron were hovering just over the horizon, making their ways slowly towards the middle of the sky. He had passed his enemy some time ago, but in order for his plan to work Saint Dane would have to arrive much sooner than his irksome counterpart.

Ah, Press. You are going to enjoy what I have planned for you. Just like old times, as the saying goes.

As he grew close to the Bedoowan town, he landed behind a small, rocky outcropping just off the main road. His form liquefied, though he did not feel the change. When he stood, he was an average-sized, wiry-muscled man with short, bright red hair and very pale skin. His armor was that of a Bedoowan knight, albeit a few differences. He wore no helmet, and there were a few slight adornments – a signal to his stature. On his back was a long blade, on his waist a knife.

He strode out from behind the rock and to the road, submerged in thought as he grew closer to the primitive little town. He walked with purpose and authority, and as he passed by the two knights faithfully guarding the entrance to town, they straightened up.  
He nodded sharply at them as he passed by, on his way to the Town Center. At least it had been the center. So many buildings and structures had been added so haphazardly that the Town Center was now only vaguely where its name implied.

Once again, a simple design thwarted by the shortsightedness and utter disregard of its creators. Yet another minor addition to his already deeply rooted contempt.

As he strode down the poorly-maintained streets, people glanced at him apprehensively, some shying away. He cared little for their reactions. Perhaps he may have enjoyed their fealty at some long-lost point, but now he was far too involved in his own designs. The plan was all that mattered.

That in mind, he walked through the double doors of the Town Center, wherein the councilors of the Bedoowan and Milago met to discuss their tribe's futures. The Milago councilors were not present. No, they were busy – at least, one of them was. The other two were likely preparing to return to their village. The three seats stood empty.

The other three councilors, however – the Bedoowan – sat at their own table, deep in discussion. One of them lifted his head and hailed him. "Sawil! You have returned. What of the Milago? Any change?" He seemed genuinely concerned. Saint Dane felt a slight flutter of irritation at the man's misplaced interest, but his response was measured. Feigning disappointment, he responded.

"I'm afraid not, Councilor Tolk. If anything, the mood grows darker. I am confident that my fears will shortly be confirmed – they will soon resort to violence."

Of course, it was unlikely that such a thing would happen without severe provocation – but never mind. The provocation would come, just as soon as he found what he was looking for. At any rate, his words served their purpose. The other two councilors looked up sharply, worry etched in their faces, and Saint Dane could almost see the thought racing through their minds. Attack? Or wait to be attacked?

They would wait today. They would wait until they could no more.

Another of the councilors – Raig – spoke. "I see. This is most disturbing. What of the guards in the village? Do you believe them safe?"

Undoubtedly they were for the moment. Most of the 'skirmishes' that had occurred were of his own make. He had even participated in a few himself - sometimes victim, sometimes punisher. "I am not sure," he responded. "The Milago grow more and more riled by the day. I think it would be a good idea to send another patrol group down to increase the night guard. It will serve both to protect from the beasts of the forest and ensure the knights avoid the wrath of any…unsatisfied…villagers."

The oaf who had hailed him looked trepid. The other two councilors, however, nodded. "I suppose it must be done. At any rate, the curfew should ensure that the Milago are unaware of the further increase, provided the new group only takes the night-shift."

Indeed. And how furious the Milago would be when they learned that the number of guards posted in the village had more than doubled in the last month. Largely unseen, save for under the glow of the Tryptite long after dark, the knights in the village had increased far more than the Milago knew. Ah, well. Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying went. Saint Dane – Sawil – nodded, then an expression of deep concern crossed his face.

Raig took notice, and inquired, "Sawil, does something else bother you? What have you learned?"

Saint Dane was almost fond of Raig. Simple minds were so easy to manipulate.

"There is one more thing. A traveler entered the village last night. The man named Press."

At this the third councilor, Nyja, spoke up. "Press is back? It has been months. Why does this concern you?" She looked at him intently. The woman was attentive, and while Saint Dane usually kept a good hold on her, she was far more temperamental than the other two.

He chose his words carefully, first pausing to seem tentative. "I believe I expressed my concerns about him the last time he was here. Do you recall?" The three nodded, Nyja staring at him sharply. Before she could interject he continued. "My opinion on him remains unchanged. Actually, after last night, they are strengthened." This was going to be delicate. He was confident that he could convince the other two, but Nyja was fond of Press. She would be – how had Pendragon always phrased it? – A tough sell. His past charades of disquiet and unease had imprinted themselves upon the three, but in order to pull off his next move, he would have to be very careful. Alarm tempered with restraint.

You are not trying to imprison an innocent man, but rather, detain a potential threat. 

"What of last night?" Raig asked quickly. Saint Dane could tell that the man was already convinced. Ever the bearer of bad news, he suppressed his amusement and continued on solemnly.

His eyebrows creased. "He came into the village very late last night, long past curfew." It would not take much effort to debunk his falsehoods, but with luck and a bit of help from the fool Traveler, Aria, it would not matter for long. "I caught sight of him as I was on my own patrol. I followed him as he snuck through the streets, heading for the far eastern side of the village, near the abandoned mine." There were many abandoned mines, but the eastern one was of far greater interest than the others. It was well-known that more than Glaze once rested within that mine.

The three were listening intently now, and even Nyja had a look of growing unease. He ruthlessly quashed the spark of triumph that flared briefly in his chest, and relayed the rest of his fairy-tale. "There were others there. I recognized one of them as the miner, Steric. It would seem that…based on what I saw, and what little I managed to hear…Press is conspiring with them." He paused here, lowered his voice, and spruced it up with a touch of fear. "I heard mention of Tak," he finished quietly.

Saint Dane watched gleefully as the word took effect. Fear and alarm spread across the three faces before him, and after a moment, hardened into resolve. Nyja steepled her hands together, resting her forehead against them, and fell silent. After a moment she asked the question. "What would you recommend we do?"

Ahh, how wonderful it is when a plan falls into place! With no small amount of regret in his voice, he said, "I believe it would be in the best interest of both tribes if he was to be detained." He quickly added, "Only until we can be certain there is no threat, of course." He looked genuinely contrite at the suggestion. He was not.

Far from it, in fact.

The three looked at each other. A look was all it took, and they nodded.

"Do what needs to be done," Nyja said.

Sawil nodded, and turned on his heel to leave.

He reached the door to the antechamber, and as an afterthought, turned back. The three were already back to their discussions, though they looked significantly more worried than when he had come in. A job well done, he thought. He called back to them. "By the by, have the other three left already, or do they linger?"

Raig looked up and responded, "Grail and Kore are near the southern stables, preparing for their return. No one seems to know where Maal is at the moment, however." With that he went back to the discussion.

Saint Dane nodded at no one in particular, turned, and left.

He quickly walked to the barracks, which was a short ways away from the Town Center. The suns were nearing the center of the sky by now, and Press would surely be along soon. He hailed two knights, who quickly dropped what they were doing – polishing their weapons, by the looks of it – and came over.

They saluted, and nodded when he gave them their orders. The two armor-clad men sheathed their weapons, following their superior out of the barracks and down the main road. They made their way to the village entrance, Saint Dane moving behind them, still disguised as their superior, Sawil. As the main road out of the Bedoowan town came into view, Saint Dane drew back, finding a good vantage point. He stood in the shadow of a baker's hut, watching the wide road which led to the forest, and on to the Milago village. The two guards he had enlisted stood on either side of the road, just inside the town. They waited, and watched.

After a while, a man came hiking up the road. He looked worked, but not winded. His somewhat long brown hair stuck to his head, such was the heat today even in the shade of the forest. Saint Dane watched in anticipation as he drew closer to the posts which marked the town limits. As Press passed into the town, the two guards looked to their superior. He nodded, and the knights made their move.

Saint Dane could hear well enough the conversation. "Halt!" One of the knights said. "By order of the Bedoowan council, you are to be detained immediately."

Press replied calmly. "What are the charges, if I may ask?"

The other knight replied gruffly, "Never mind. You will be informed later. Please come with us."

Press seemed to pause, and the guards tensed. After a moment, Press said, "Very well, but I have a niece back in the village. She's there alone, and she'll be expecting me back before curfew. She'll get worried if I don't return."

One of the knights moved behind him and bound his hands. "Well then, worried she'll be. Not much you can do about that."

Press leaned over to the guard, and said something softly in his ear. Saint Dane's eyes narrowed, but he wasn't terribly concerned. He was fairly certain he knew Press's intent.

They seemed to disagree on something, but then the knight binding him relaxed. He nodded, and began to lead Press away. Suddenly Press tensed, looking around.

Saint Dane smiled as their eyes met. He lowered his façade for a brief moment, allowing his eyes to flash blue. To his credit, Press didn't even seem remotely bothered. He dismissed him, turned around, and went calmly to the jail.

Saint Dane watched him go, thinking quickly. He had many roles to play, and seldom had time to waste. Already he had been gone too long, and his absence had been noticed. Still, a bit of fun couldn't hurt.

He attended to some of the minor responsibilities of Sawil's 'life' as he waited for his old friend to be processed.

Saint Dane took care not to be seen too often as he made his way to the jail in the eastern part of the town. When he grew close to his destination he looked carefully around. There was no one nearby. Concentrating briefly, he allowed his form to dissipate. Now incorporeal, he drifted through a small crack in the wall of the jail, into one of the empty holding cells. In the plentiful shadows he was able to pass knights and prisoners unnoticed until he reached his destination. He had already specified which cell the prisoner was to be held in, and it suited his purpose. No one else was around. They could speak unheard.

Press sat on his bunk, face in his steepled hands; he looked to be deep in thought, and was very clearly worried. Saint Dane's form coalesced into that of Sawil, and he grinned slowly. "Oh, dear. Oh dear, oh dear." Press looked up sharply as Saint Dane began to pace outside of his cell. "This seems rather familiar, does it not? Imprisoned by the Bedoowan, helpless to act, your brave little Traveler left to fend for him…her…self." He pouted mockingly at his old enemy, feigning concern. "You must be worried about her. Or did you intend to abandon her so early? After all, it worked out well the first time, did it not?"

Press raised an eyebrow, but replied calmly enough, despite his foe's needling. "Aria? She'll be fine. She's a lot more resourceful than she looks. Besides, she'll have help."

"You speak with such confidence. I sense that you're right. I'm sure she will rise to the occasion, as Pendragon did. Oh, but he went through hell to do so, did he not?"

At this, Press's eyes flashed. Saint Dane smiled. It was not her performance he was concerned about, it was her wellbeing. How touching. "Come now, Press. You and I both know that there's nothing to fear. After all, the old days are over! There is peace between the two tribes, is there not? No more coliseums, no more toxic mines, no more Transfers," he spoke almost ruefully. "What is the worst that could happen to her…?" What indeed. He had some lovely answers to that question.

At this, Press's expression grew dangerous. "Saint Dane—" he began, but he was cut off.

"And of course, as you said, she'll have help. The Traveler of Denduron – no doubt the one that knight will be contacting?" Press glared at Saint Dane once again, but remained silent. "Oh, don't worry; I have no plans to call on him. Yet."

He let that sink in, still pacing. Then he drew short, and turned his full attention to the man sitting crouched behind bars. "And, of course, just as Pendragon had Osa, Aria will have Alder to mentor her whilst you are," he smirked at his jailed enemy and continued pacing. "Busy. Oh, but," Saint Dane's eyes widened in false remembrance, "Osa wasn't around for very long, was she?"

At this, Press snarled. He opened his mouth to say something, but once again Saint Dane cut him off. "I was not there, but my assassins told me she died quite heroically. Her death must have been inspiring." He stopped pacing and turned his full attention to Press. "I wonder if Alder's will be as well?"

At this Press sprang to his feet, temper breaking. He flung himself at the bars of the cell, reaching through and grabbing the demon's shirt. "I swear, Saint Dane—"

But with this, his form misted. Press' fingers slipped through the smoke, and he was left holding nothing. Saint Dane chuckled softly as he began to dissipate once more. As he grew less distinct, he left his enemy with one final thought.

"I think it will be. She will rise to the occasion - great actions are often the result of great suffering. And believe me, she will suffer, just as Pendragon did. Perhaps more so."

He slipped into the shadows, hissing as he did so. "Because that is the way it was meant to be."

"Saint Dane!" Press shouted, enraged. He had the knowledge and experience of the ages. It was not often he lost his temper. But the demon always had a way to provoke. He knew where the soft spots were, and how to get at them. This was the knowledge he had accumulated, and he used it well.

As the guards came running to see what the disturbance was, Saint Dane drifted through the cells and halls, emerging in a deserted alley behind the jail. He smiled slightly, his fun over. Most people were easy to manipulate, but Press had always been difficult. It gave Saint Dane a sense of triumph whenever he managed to provoke the man. Press knew that death meant little to the Travelers. They would simply appear in Solara once their time here on the territories was done. Saint Dane knew that Press's anguish was not over Alder's imminent death, but rather the girl's imminent grief. Aria would undoubtedly come to depend on Alder for stability and support, just as much as Pendragon had for Osa. And it would be just as crushing to her when he fell.

He briefly pondered what the next step was, and quickly made his decision. He solidified his form into that of a cat, not so different from the species found on Earth. He padded through the streets, actually purring as he remembered his enemy's torment, and eventually made his way to the southern stables.

Checking quickly and carefully to ensure that he was alone, he backed into Sawil's form when he drew near the old building. He strode to the end of the alley, taking care to stay largely out of sight, and hailed a young knight passing by on patrol. The boy came over to him, and as Saint Dane gave him his orders, he paused, looking slightly confused.

Saint Dane narrowed his eyes, a spark of irritation flaring up. It was not the knight's place to be confused, or curious, or concerned in any way. His place was that of a messenger. To enunciate that point, Saint Dane – Sawil – spat out his dismissal and swore the boy to silence. The young knight gave him a quick, frightened salute, turned, and hurried away.

Saint Dane watched him carefully, making sure he would be able to recognize him should the boy need to be dealt with. This was a very important step, and it was critical that it be handled with subtlety. He felt no desire to take more lives than was necessary, but should the boy prove troublesome, he would not hesitate.

He relaxed. The message would be delivered. Tomorrow he would meet with those under his command and give them their next target. Today, he would need to deal with other business. He glanced down at his hands, pondering the entity that he had created.

Sawil. A strange name for a strange character, most thought. Never mind. Most did not know enough about him to dwell on him for long. The only person who was even remotely aware of what he did was the councilor, Raig. It was Raig, after all, who held Sawil's loyalty. Raig directed his men, gave them their orders, and otherwise allowed them free reign. It was Raig who told them what to find, where to strike. It was Raig who controlled the situation from the background, his assassins working his will from the shadows. And it was Saint Dane who controlled Raig.

There had never been a Sawil. It had taken him many years to secure his role, all done from scratch. The years of tedium meant little to him. He was patient. He had all the time in Halla at his disposal. And the time he had invested, all his careful planning, would come to fruition in the next few days. It left him feeling satisfied.

He jerked his head around as he heard voices approaching the alley. He recognized the Milago councilor, Grail, and concentrated quickly to change his form. It would not do well to have Sawil found sneaking about near the Milago councilors. It was not time for such provocation…yet. Just as Saint Dane finishing assuming his new form, the councilor in question turned the corner, looking irritated.

The expression dropped, and was quickly replaced with a grin. "Maal! We have been looking for you. We meant to depart hours ago! Where have you been?"

Councilor Maal turned to face his long-time friend, smiling sheepishly. "My apologies, Grail. I'm afraid I grew a bit distracted with a pretty barmaid from the tavern…" he trailed off, hoping that the lie would serve its purpose.

Councilor Grail looked at his fellow councilor sharply, and Saint Dane tensed. Then he snorted. "Maintaining 'peaceful relations', as always." He said sarcastically. "Is that why you weren't in your room last night?"

Saint Dane silently cursed. His absence had been more readily noticed than he had thought. "Err, quite. We are on a diplomatic mission after all." He waited to see how his old friend would respond.

His concerns were baseless. After a moment the man laughed, saying, "Well, let's just keep this between the two of us, if possible. Kore hardly needs any more reason to be disgusted with you. If you are ready to depart, I would recommend we do so. Thanks to you, we will have to deal with his foul mood the entire way back to the village."

Saint Dane relaxed. He nodded, making his way over to his two fellow councilors.


	15. Out the Door

Aria woke slowly for once, a pleasant change from the abrupt awakenings her night terrors usually caused. She had been so exhausted the previous night that she supposed she hadn't had the energy to dream.

She glanced over to her bed stand and quietly hissed out her annoyance. Her journals were gone. Although Alder had told her to leave them on the table in the commons room, she had taken them to her dorm with her in the hopes that she would be able to catch Alder sending them off. She really wanted to know how he planned on delivering them.

She poked her head over the side of her mattress to look at the bottom bunk. She had been sharing the room with another woman, a knight, but apparently knights had to get up pretty early. She was already gone, bed made, armor missing.

She glanced at her bed stand again, pouting. Like the freakin' tooth fairy. She sighed, yawned, then swung her legs over and jumped to the ground.

She bent her knees to absorb the shock, but the slight impact made her fall completely to the floor. It felt like an electric current had shot up her legs, and her feet were prickling. Aria let out a grunt of discomfort. She sat there for a few minutes, waiting for the pain to dissipate.

The last two days had taken a bigger toll on her than she had thought. She was extremely sore.

She stood up, wincing, and hoped that there wouldn't be any surprise footraces today. As she looked around the room, which had been too dark to see the previous night, she noticed that there was a change of clothes on a chair opposite her bunk, as well as a small pouch and a bag with a strap. Her interest piqued, she went over and looked through the supplies, which seemed to be meant for her. The pouch contained a small amount of money, as well as a note explaining how currency worked and how not to get cheated out of it. The bag had a sealed inkwell, quill, more parchment, a water canteen, and a small hunting knife. The clothes were fresh and clean.

Ok - less like the tooth fairy; more like Santa.

She shrugged off her own clothes, which were starting to smell pretty bad. She would have liked to have some fresh underwear, but hey, use what you've got. She slipped on the new leathers, noticing as she did that there were loops around the waist, perfect for slipping a belt or strap through. After monkeying around for a few minutes, she managed to strap the bag around her waist, letting it rest against her left thigh. Just like her fanny pack.

She sat on the floor for a few minutes, going through some stretches. She was normally very flexible, but her muscles were so tight she could barely move. As she moved to downward dog, she pondered what to do with her day. She brightened up when she recalled that she had another Traveler on her side now, and that she would probably be meeting up with her uncle soon. That in mind, she really relaxed and got into her stretches.

About ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Aria called out ambiguous permission to come in.

The door opened and a knight poked his head through, eyebrows shooting up when he saw Aria. She was leaning forward at an unnatural angle, and had both legs crossed behind her head. Feeling self-conscious, she finished her stretch, untangled herself, and stood up. "Er, hi. Just stretching. Keep the muscles loose, and all. Don't want to get cramps." The knight didn't look much older than she was, and seemed a little bit awkward. He just stared at her vacantly for another moment, then spoke.

"Alder wished me to leave you a message. He said that he would be back around midday. He is going up to the Bedoowan village to find your uncle, as he wasn't at the inn last night." He thought for another moment, then finished, "He advises that you go out to gather more information, and meet him at the memorial around noon."

Aria's stomach sank. A little desperately, she asked, "He's not here?"

The knight shook his head, and Aria let out a small sigh through her nose. She knew it wasn't a big deal, but she was hit with a pang of disappointment. Gather more information? On what? From whom? Where should she go?

Before she could ask anything else, her stomach rumbled. The knight suddenly smiled, as though glad to have something positive to say. "That I can fix! Come with me, I will get you some breakfast." With that he turned around and began bouncing down the hall.

Aria sighed. At least one of them was in a good mood.

Grabbing her money-pouch, she followed the knight. Most of the doors were closed, and she wondered vaguely how many were occupied. The knight led her to the commons room where a fire was once again going – or perhaps had never gone out. He motioned for her to wait while he went off to get food.

The couch was empty, so she drifted over there, pulling up the same small table she had used the previous night. As she sat, her legs protested. As helpful as her stretches had been, a walk would really do her good.

She felt a pang of longing for her iPod. And for her gymnasium. And her shower at home. And her cat, Loki, who always accompanied her in the shower.

By the time the knight returned with her food, she wasn't feeling very hungry. He set a bowl of that strange, nutty orange porridge down in front of her and was about to speak when he noticed her expression.

He stood awkwardly for a moment, as though wanting to say something. "Er, please, let me know if there is anything I can get for you."

Aria looked up at him, gave him a small smile, and nodded. "Thanks." He returned her smile, a bit uncertainly, then left.

Aria picked up her spoon and began poking at her food. She twirled the utensil around, making shapes and hills and valleys in the foreign dish. She made a painstakingly detailed formation, moving the last orange grain into place with utmost precision, then swiped the concave wood across the whole mess, flattening it out and starting over.

The porridge was getting cold. She still didn't feel much like breakfast, but she forced herself to eat. At the rate things were going, she figured she would need the energy.

As she finished the last bite, a few knights came in from the dorm hall. They seemed to be in a foul mood, and one of them had bandages on his face. It was widely bruised, as though he had been hit with something heavy, more than a fist. They were walking over to where she was sitting when the injured one noticed her. The other two saw her and scowled. She shifted awkwardly, and quickly grabbed her things and stood up. She took the bowl and slinked to the side of the room, giving the three knights enough room to pass. The bruised one stared coldly at her, then walked brusquely over to the couch and sat down. The other two followed suit.

What was their problem?

Aria shrugged it off, quickly and quietly moving through the door she assumed led to the kitchen. There were a few doors along the hall, but she quickly found the one she was looking for. A room which was clearly meant for cooking, with pots, pans, a fireplace…even what appeared to be stoves, and a sink. Apparently, they were advanced enough to have indoor plumbing and gas of some sort. When she was done marveling over the almost modern-looking kitchen apparatus, she noticed that it was stacked with dishes.

She went over and automatically started filling one side of the sink with water. She looked around for some soap and a sponge. When she had what she needed, she washed her bowl, and began working on the rest.

She started to relax; she had always enjoyed cleaning. It was a simple task, yet rewarding; watching the grime and stains disappear, things being returned to their rightful place. People appreciated it. It made a difference.

Not for very long though, she had to admit. An organized desk would become messy, a clean room would get dirty. It happened eventually. She didn't mind cleaning up. It may have been a losing battle, but it was rewarding to fight.

As Aria made her way steadily through the large pile of dishes, a female knight walked in. She froze when she saw Aria. A series of expressions flitted across her face – surprise, suspicion, confusion, more suspicion. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. As all of this happened, Aria watched the knight with some trepidation, worried that she may be chastised for having wandered around. Her hands, however, had experienced no such trepidation, and had continued washing dishes.

Finally, the knight looked at the sink. She frowned, walked over, and began drying and putting away the now-clean dishes.

Aria relaxed. They worked in relative silence until they were done, then, in non-verbal mutual consent, began cleaning the rest of the kitchen.

Finally she put away the last utensil, and turned to the presumably Bedoowan woman. She was somewhat short, but strongly built, with short blond hair going just past her ears. She had piercing blue eyes, and large ears. She was dressed in full knight apparel, sans one helmet. She even had her sword on her hip, though Aria wasn't sure why. To fight off the ravenous dust-bunnies, maybe.

The knight turned to her, hooking a long soup-ladle on a peg above the stove, and raised an eyebrow. Aria shifted a little uncomfortably, cleaning-serenity fading.

Aria smiled tensely and said, "Thank you for the help."

The knight didn't respond for a few moments. Then said, "This place needed a good cleaning. Who are you?" She leaned against the counter, taking on a more relaxed posture.

Aria didn't have anything comfortable to lean against, so she stayed upright. "I'm Aria. I'm just here visiting. Alder brought me in last night, I was in—"

"I know. You were in my bunk."

Oh. That's who she had been sharing a room with.

Aria continued awkwardly. "Err, yeah. Hope I didn't bother you. I'm pretty sure I'll be staying at the inn tonight, so I won't be getting in your way."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "It's not like it's crowded. I normally have the room to myself."

"You don't have a roommate?"

The woman snorted. "Hardly. There aren't a lot of knights like me around, are there?"

Aria was confused. "Huh? What do you mean?"

This time the woman raised both eyebrows, looking at Aria like she was a little stupid. Aria felt self-conscious. It wasn't like she was familiar with the general Bedoowan Knight Demographic. How was she supposed to know what was normal or not?

The woman continued staring, and it finally clicked. "Oh, you mean girls?"

The woman's eyes narrowed. Apparently she didn't like being called a 'girl'. Aria hastily corrected herself. "Women, rather."

The knight glared for a moment more, when shrugged it off. "There are only a few of us in service, and I'm the only one in the village. I'm Talrind, by the way. Call me Tal."

Oh, thank goodness. Wouldn't want a name with more than one syllable. "Nice to meet you, Tal." Suddenly Aria realized that this woman may be able to help her out a bit. "Say, I need to get going pretty soon. I don't suppose you could point me to the marketplace, could you?" For all her wandering around yesterday, she was still hopelessly lost. A guide would do her a world of good.

Tal seemed to think about it for a minute, then asked, a little suspiciously, "What are you looking for in the market place?"

Aria was getting exasperated at this point.

What is it about me that screams, 'potentially dangerous subversive' to you?

"Uh, I just want to walk around, talk to people. Maybe pick up some food." That was hardly a lie. Then she remembered Alder's message and added, "Oh, and I need to find the 'memorial'. Do you know where that is?"

The woman looked surprised. "The memorial? You don't know where it is?" Aria shook her head. Tal continued. "It's in the center of town…" Comprehension dawned in her eyes then. "You aren't from this village, are you? Or from ours, for that matter."

This time it was Aria who raised her eyes. She had assumed that Alder had told this woman who she was sharing a room with. Apparently not. "No. I'm from a village over the mountain. I'm here visiting with my Uncle Press."

Tal raised an eyebrow. "Press is your uncle?"

"Uhhh, yep. I take it you know him?"

Tal nodded enthusiastically. "Sure. A lot of people do. He's a good man. You should have said you were related."

Aria replied a little sarcastically. "I'm not really used to introducing myself as 'Press's niece'."

Still, it was good to know that her uncle was on good terms with these people. She wondered why he hadn't mentioned that.

Tal continued. "I've got training pretty soon, but I can point you in the right direction. Are you ready to go now?"

Aria considered whether there was anything else she needed here. She had her bags with her, and she didn't really have anything else except for the dirty clothes she had left in her – or rather, Tal's – bunk. She wasn't eager to leave, since this was the first place that had held any stability for her, but she at last had to admit there was nothing else she needed here. She nodded, but added, "I did leave my change of clothes in your bunk…"

Tal waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it; I'll take care of them." She grabbed a couple of apple-looking fruits out of a bag near the door, tossed one to Aria, then said, "Let's go."

Glancing around once more, Aria followed Tal out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and through the commons room. The knights were still at the couch, and they glared at Aria once more as she passed them by. If Tal noticed their hostility, she didn't acknowledge it.

When they got outside, Aria realized why she had missed the barracks on her search yesterday. They were in the forest, not really connected to the actual village. Tal took off in a seemingly random direction, and Aria followed along. They walked in silence for a few minutes, passing between the large trees, and within a minute they were in sight of the rest of the village.

Aria was looking around intently, trying to ingrain the location into her head in case she needed to come back later. That's when she noticed Tal was staring sideways at her.

Aria glanced over at her, waiting. After a moment, Tal spoke. "So, those knights who were giving you a foul eye. They give you a hard time while you were here?"

Aria replied quickly. "No. They just glared at me a bunch when I saw them earlier. What's up with them? Did I do something offensive? Was it something I'm wearing?" She glanced down fretfully at her outfit, making sure nothing inappropriate was showing.

Tal laughed a bit, and said, "No. They probably just assumed you were Milago." They passed by the stables Aria had run through yesterday. One Milago was leading a horse around the corral, but the rest seemed to be stabled.

Aria scrunched up her eyebrows and said, "Er, isn't it the Milago who are supposed to be upset with the Bedoowan? Not the other way around?"

Then she realized that, as a Bedoowan, Tal would probably be offended by that. Aria immediately felt like an idiot, and wished she could snatch the words back. Luckily, Tal didn't seem bothered. Looking straight ahead, she replied levelly. "That's the general atmosphere at the moment. Lot of talk about oppression going around. But here's a question for you – you've met a few knights by now, right? Other than those three back there, have they seemed like bad guys to you?" They passed by a small clearing where some children were playing with a small leather ball.

Aria thought about it for a moment, going down the list of knights she had met, in reverse order. There was Tal, of course, whom Aria found she rather liked despite her mild paranoia. There was the peppy one she had met that morning, the one who had given her the message from Alder as well as breakfast. And there was Alder, himself, whom Aria was already fond of. 

There were the two she’d seen last night who had regarded her with nothing more than curiosity. She also recalled the knight who had escorted her and Press to the inn their first night in the village. The gesture had been more polite than oppressive, coming off as a protective measure rather than an intimidating one. And finally, while the knight who had initially found them that night had been gruff and suspicious, he hadn't been over hostile. Mostly just cautious, and perhaps a bit irritated at the disruption.

Altogether, Aria had yet to meet a knight that really matched the descriptions that the Milago villagers had given her…except, maybe, for the three she had encountered earlier.

Aria's thoughtful silence seemed to be enough for Tal, who continued. "Just bear in mind that while the Milago may have some bones to pick with some of the guards, not all of them are anything like the picture the villagers paint. Not by a long shot. The injuries you saw on the big guy – his name is Bron – were from a brawl with a Milago. The Milago in question walked up and began picking at Bron's squire. When Bron intervened, the incident escalated. The Milago threw the first punch."

At this point Tal's face had a stormy look to it, and Aria simply nodded, remaining silent and processing the information. Bron had assumed she had been another Milago who wanted to give him a hard time. She guessed she could understand the frustration on his part. It would be pretty infuriating to be treated like some unwanted oppressor when you haven't done anything to deserve it, and Bron had just been defending his squire - presumably. Unlike Bron, she tended not to make assumptions, and as such didn't believe a story completely until she had gotten both sides of it. Still, Tal's word seemed trustworthy.

"So basically," she said after a few silent minutes, "The Bedoowan are fed up with the Milago for being fed up with the Bedoowan." They had grown close enough to the marketplace that she actually recognized where they were. Though she thought she would be able to find her way there on her own, she wanted to finish her conversation with Tal. Aria looked at the knight to gauge her response. She didn't want to imply to the knight that it was all the Bedoowan's fault.

Thankfully, Tal didn't take it that way. She smiled grimly, the expression nearly a smirk, and said, "That's it for a quill."

Aria wasn't sure what she meant by that, but it sounded synonymous with, 'in a nutshell'. She shrugged as they rounded the corner of a small building, and came out in the marketplace. Aria turned to Tal and said, "Thanks a lot. I guess I'd better get…" She almost said, 'digging for information,' but recalled that Tal didn't know why she was really here. "…shopping," she finished lamely.

Tal seemed to notice the pause, and the good old paranoia kicked back in. Her eyes narrowed, her arms crossed, and she paused, staring at Aria for a long moment before relaxing a bit. "Glad to help. Good luck with…" She trailed off, shooting another suspicious glance at the nervously smiling Traveler. "…shopping."

Aria nodded vigorously, and whirled around towards the clearing that was already beginning to seethe with people. Suddenly, Tal called out from behind her. "Hey! One more thing."

Aria turned, listening.

One side of Tal's face turned up in an odd, nearly sardonic smile. "A friend of Press is my friend, too. If you need my help, don't hesitate to drop by." With that she gave a short wave, turned, and walked jauntily off.

Aria smiled. She hoped she wouldn't need it, but it was reassuring to know she had one more person she could go to for help.

She glanced up to see where the suns were. They were still quite a ways apart, so she probably had a few hours to go until noon. She sighed, adjusted her new packs, and started looking around for someone to talk to.


	16. Old Enemies, New Friends

She was being stalked.

She knew she was being stalked, because the person stalking her was nearly as large as a refrigerator, and about as stealthy as one.

It was one of Jani's posse – the big one. Dakka, if Aria wasn't mistaken. Jani was the ringleader. Rill was the rat-like one with the wooden nose-ring. Dakka was the one you didn't want sitting on you.

Unfortunately, it looked like that might end up happening if Aria didn't take care. She had noticed the bulky girl several times, and each time Dakka had tried to disappear into the crowds. She managed it, too... eventually. Stealth clearly wasn't her strong suit. Aria tried to keep losing her in the crowds, bee-lining away from the massive girl whenever she saw her – which was often – but the great galoot just kept popping up.

Aria sighed, feeling simultaneously annoyed and nervous. She really didn't want a repeat performance of yesterday, sans Alder, but it really was a sad attempt at hiding. Dakka was clearly going to a lot of trouble to not be noticed, though, so Aria did her best to try to pretend she didn't see her extremely obvious stalker. Meanwhile, she tried to figure out why Dakka was following her in the first place.

Clearly Jani was serious about wanting revenge. For what, Aria wasn't quite sure. She still didn't understand what she had done to evoke the girl's anger. She had been thinking about it since she first saw Dakka ducking clumsily behind a large cart of vegetables, and she was still stumped. Jani didn't seem to want her snooping around, but Aria was still trying to puzzle out what it might be that Jani didn't want her discovering.

A thought occurred to her. Could Jani, or one of the others, be Saint Dane in disguise?

She turned her head just in time to see Dakka diving headfirst behind a pile of logs. One of the logs fell in the commotion, and from behind the pile Aria heard a quickly stifled oof of pain.

Aria shook her head and sighed.

She made her way away from Dakka once again, and glanced up at the sky for the umpteenth time that morning. It still wasn't close to noon. She really wanted Alder to get there so she could stop having to worry about getting jumped. She highly doubted that she was really in any danger; how could anyone that dumb pose a threat? But being stalked – however poorly – still put her on edge.

She was getting hungry, so she headed over to a bread stand. She asked how much for a loaf, and was quoted four quills for the large ones, two for the small. She took a small loaf of bread, then went over to an area with a small amount of shade, sat down, and started to eat.

Her mind wandered back to Jani. First things first. Who is she?

A Milago.

Who do Milago distrust?

Bedoowan.

Perhaps Jani though Aria was a spy sent by the Bedoowan to…do something. Aria chased idly after that string of logic, but let it drop fairly quickly, pulling out her water flask and taking a long drink. She just didn't know enough about Jani to come up with any real hypothesis, so speculating was more or less a waste of time. Anyways, while she was curious as to why Jani seemed to hate her, she didn't really see how it related to the concerns at hand – namely the Tryptite shortage, the civil dispute, and Saint Dane's hand in all of it.

Still nothing on that front, by the way. In terms of information she had turned up before noticing her crouching-tiger-hidden-buffalo, she hadn't discovered anything of interest. She had heard a few more Bedoowan-oppressor stories, one of them rehashed from yesterday; a bit of speculation on some holiday called the Feast of Noab; and she'd learned the names of the three suns. She'd gotten some odd looks on that one. Apparently it didn't matter where you came from – the suns were still called Noab, Laa, and Rigg.

As she finished off her bread, she looked up in time to see Dakka creeping up to her. Directly in front of her. With no cover. In broad daylight.

Aria blinked, then stood up quickly, glancing around. Although she wasn't in the main market anymore, there was still a branch of people off to her side, and she started heading over there, perpendicular to the path Dakka was making. No problem.  
About ten feet away, Rill appeared from out of the crowd. She started stalking towards Aria rapidly, a dark expression on her face. Problem.

Aria stopped, and took a very good look at where she was. Reality dawned on her as she realized that she was on the far edge of the market – the edge closest to the forest, and farthest from the residential homes. Suddenly Dakka's sad attempts at subtlety didn't strike her as embarrassing anymore. They struck her as intentional.

She wasn't being stalked. She was being herded.

Aria decided she would just walk right past Rill, into the group of people – after all, she was still close enough that they would notice a fight breaking out.

Or they would have, if a couple of riled-up horses hadn't started storming through the market.

There were some gasps of surprise, a short scream, and the group of people began rushing over to see the mini-stampede. It left them all but alone. Aria's eyes widened as Rill grinned.

It was a setup – and Aria had played right into it. She turned her head to see Dakka blocking off the way towards the main market, and Rill was getting closer by the second. She didn't have anywhere else to go, so she darted away from both of them…straight into the forest.

Rill let out a cheerful, "whoop!" behind her as Aria began to sprint into isolation, and Dakka let out what seemed to be a happy grunt. Aria didn't pull anything back, heading full-tilt into the trees, hoping to get a good enough head-start that she could loop around them and get back to the market. The two girls chasing her probably hadn't been expecting that, because when Aria managed to get a good 20 foot lead on them in just a few seconds, Rill let out a frustrated screech.

Chasing her down when she was hungry, thirsty and exhausted was one thing. Well-rested and recently fed Aria was a whole 'nother animal. She quickly put on the distance she needed, and grinned as she began to make her U-turn.

That's when the third musketeer showed up.

Jani appeared from the right, where Aria had been heading, and grinned with equal triumph when their eyes met. Aria's smile dropped. Jani's remained.

Aria course-corrected, and began dodging between trees and shrubs, though there wasn't much to put in her way. It was a fairly sparse forest, and there weren't many places for her to go. She clenched her teeth in frustration. Jani had clearly orchestrated this. Aria shouldn't have assumed that Dakka's amateur techniques were as shallow as they had appeared to be.

Short green ferns whisked past her as she ran, and she jumped over a large fallen branch. She tried to loop around the other way, but quickly realized that would be a waste of time. They had clearly planned this out, Jani taking the right, Dakka blocking the way back, and Rill flanking around the left.

Aria began to panic. She poured on the speed, not knowing where to go, and charged straight into the unknown forest.

She quickly gave up on smart tactics, opting for a straight shot in the hopes of wearing them out. They moved in directly behind her, and by the sound of it, were starting to catch up. The village was pretty far behind them at this point, and if she got caught now she honestly might not be able to make it back if she was badly injured. She doubted anyone would be able to find her this far out either.

Things were looking bad.

There was movement out of the corner of her eye. An animal? Aria glanced to her left, and to her amazement saw a boy keeping pace with her, just a few feet off to her left.

Where did he come from?

He grinned at her. Man, everyone was smiling today. He gestured for her to follow him. There was an angry screech from behind her as her three pursuers noticed the new addition. Although Aria had no idea who this guy was, she figured he could be Hannibal Lector for all she cared. If he was a jerk, she liked her chances of fending off one guy more than three pissed-off girls.

"Come on!" He yelled, and darted to the left. Aria followed, but her energy was starting to waver. She focused on the boy in front of her, her vision narrowing to a tunnel, as she poured on the last of her energy to keep up and away from Jani's group.

After was seemed like an hour, but was likely not more than a minute, the boy gesture for her to be careful, and he slowed down a bit. He went through a large group of ferns in front of him, dropping out of sight. Aria's brain didn't quite register where he had gone until she ran full tilt off the edge.

It wasn't a large drop, just a steep slope a few feet down, but the sickening lurch was enough to scare Aria out of her tunnel vision. The impact was shocking, and for a few moments the world was tilted and skewed. She lay there dazed for a moment, but luckily she had landed on a whole lot of leaves and ferns. The damage wasn't bad, but she was dizzy and her head hurt.

Behind her, Dakka's footsteps thundered, nearly drowning out the sounds of the other two. The boy ran over to her, looked at her with an expression caught between horror and hilarity. Some part of her mind vaguely noted that she must have looked ridiculous running off that ledge. He said something she didn't catch and pulled her to her feet. She swayed, gasping for breath, and paused for a moment to get a better look at him.

He had short, unevenly cut dark brown hair. His eyes were a light, playful brown, and while he was not much taller than her, he was a bit bulkier. He wore odd clothing – not quite the armor of a Bedoowan knight, but definitely not civilian clothes. He had a long stick strapped to his back, and he was smiling like a kid who had just hopped off the biggest roller coaster in the park. Altogether, he looked quite dashing.

This time she caught what he said. "We really can't afford to wait here all day, you know." He began pulling her with gentle urgency towards…

A mine shaft!

That was certainly what it looked like. An opening in the earth in front of them sloped gently downwards, some old and rusted tracks leading into the cave.

Aria paused for another moment, then began to follow him. She wasn't in the habit of going into dark, isolated tunnels with boys she barely knew…but she didn't really have much choice. She decided she would have to trust him. Just as they started descending, Aria being mostly dragged since she was still shaky from the fall, there was a shrill screech and something crashed down loudly behind them. Glancing behind her, Aria saw that Rill had done exactly what she had done, and was now laying in a dazed heap.

Jani appeared at the top of the slope. She had clearly put on the brakes when she heard the screech, and had just barely managed to keep herself tumbling off the edge. She paused, then smirked triumphantly at Aria as she readied herself to jump down.

Then she got hit by the semi-truck that was Dakka.

Dakka had clearly tried to stop in time, too, but she just had too much momentum. Momentum, as Aria had learned in physics, was equal to mass times velocity. And Dakka had a lot of mass.

She plowed straight into Jani, stopping dead and sending the smaller girl flying. She launched her. Jani bellowed in rage, Dakka cringed, and Rill screeched again as Jani came down right on top of her.

Aria let out a nervous, hysterical laugh, and turned to run into the tunnel.

\---

They had been stumbling along quickly for just a few minutes when the boy said, "Okay. I think we're alright." With that his pace slowed to a leisurely walk.

At least, that's what it sounded like. The sunlight had faded a ways back. It was pitch black down there.

Aria was holding onto the boy's arm in a death grip, stumbling forward in the dark. He himself seemed to be pretty confident in the confined area, but said, "Hold on. I'll strike up a light."

With that he paused, Aria heard some rustling sounds from the ground, as though he had knelt down and was going through a pack. A minute later, there were a few sharp clacks, and a torch caught fire, giving them both light.

The boy was looking up at her curiously, two stones in his hands and an expression of bright interest on his face. He asked, "Are you alright? That was some fall." 

Aria just stood there, panting for a minute, still exhausted and head pounding from the tumble. "Give me... a minute…" And with that she slumped against the wall and began massaging her temples.

His face fell when he realized that she might really be hurt, but she waved her hand and said, "I'm fine. Just a headache. And a bit tried. And worried. Aren't they going to catch up with us in a minute?" She said while gesturing back the way they had come. She pulled out her water flask and began chugging. There wasn't much left in there.

The boy shook his head and said, "No, they'll be too afraid to enter the mine. It's full of poisonous gas, after all."

Aria choked on her water, and began coughing violently.

The boy raised his hands in a calming gesture, and said, "Don't worry! You'd have to breathe the stuff in for years to really get sick. You'll be fine. But those three will most likely be like everyone else, and refuse to come in here on principle."

Aria rode out her coughing fit, took a few deep breaths, and finally spoke. "Thank you for getting me out of that. I'm Aria." She held out her hand to shake.

He looked at it curiously for a moment, and Aria drew it back. Right. Again, hand-shaking was probably a cultural thing. He shrugged and responded, "Aria? What a strange name." She blushed a bit. She had taken a lot of flak about it in the past. He noticed her discomfort and hastily said, "Not strange in a bad way! Not at all. I like it." Then his mouth tilted up into a cautious grin. "My name is Tarek."

Hallelujah! A two-syllable name! "Pleased to meet you." Beyond being polite, she was genuinely grateful for his help – albeit a fair bit suspicious. Miraculous rescues didn't usually just happen. Who was this guy, and what had brought him her way?

She decided to pursue that line of questioning. "So, how did you know where I was? That I needed help? What were you doing here?" She hoped she didn't sound accusatory.

Fortunately, he didn't seem offended. He raised a hand, gesturing for her to pause. "Come on. We can talk while we head for the exit. It's a fairly long walk, so we should get going." With that he held out his torch, lighting the passage before them.

Aria looked around for a moment, a wave of unease passing over her. Although she wasn't actually claustrophobic, she was somewhat uncomfortable in confined spaces. The tunnel they were in wasn't large.

She shrugged it off and started walking. As they moved through the tunnel, darkness encroaching and receding with the flickering of the torch, Tarek picked up the conversation.

"So, you're Press's niece, right?"

Aria twitched her nose in irritation. "Hey! I'm the one who's supposed to be asking the questions." Furthermore, she was getting tired of being recognized as 'Press's niece'.

He raised his eyebrows at her, clearly a bit amused.

She sighed. "Yes. I'm Press's niece." Then another thought dawned on her. "Have you seen him? I was supposed to meet up with him yesterday, but we didn't and now I have no idea where he is." She looked at him hopefully.

He winced and said, "Yes, I know where he is. You're not going to be happy about it, though."

She felt a jolt of dread. "Is he alright?" She asked, a frantic edge to her voice.

"Yes, he's fine; he's not in any danger. It's just that…well, he's been arrested by the Bedoowan council. He's being held until things settle down. Don't worry, though, a lot of people like Press. He's being treated very well."

She froze. Bile rose in the back of her throat.

He was being treated well? Good treatment or not, he was in prison!

She had, due to a very embarrassing misunderstanding, once spent a summer at military school because she had been convicted (wrongfully!) of a minor crime. The regiment was so strict it wasn't much better than prison…just with more mandatory exercise. She knew what it was like to have your freedom taken away from you. It was one of the worst feelings in the world.

And her uncle was in jail.

She was hit with equal parts anger and distress. Her uncle had come here to help these people! And they imprisoned him? How was that fair? And now he wouldn't be coming back to help her. How was she supposed to do this on her own?

Tarek had paused, and was looking back at her with apologetic concern.

Aria sighed. Not on your own, she reminded herself. She still had Alder, Tal, and now maybe Tarek.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, and forced herself to calm down and keep walking. They had taken a few turns, and Aria had lost all sense of direction. Her sense of direction was generally awful anyways, but this labyrinth of a mine was making it impossible to tell which way they were heading. After another moment, she asked, "Okay. How did you know this?"

Clearly relieved that she wasn't about to have a breakdown of some sort, Tarek quickly replied. "He sent me a message through one of the knights. I just found out yesterday evening. He asked me to come find you, and tell you not to worry. That Alder and I would help you."

Aria perked up at that. "You know Alder?"

"Of course. He's training me…both as a knight, and a Traveler." There was a faint air of pride about him as he said this.

Aria looked at him in surprise. "You're a Traveler?"

"And a squire," he insisted.

Dismissing the squire bit again, Aria thought about this. If Alder had been training him then he probably knew a lot more about this Traveling business than she did. She made a mental note to ask him some big questions later, but decided to go back to her original three. "So, how did you know where I was?"

"Well, I got the message at night, and since we have the same curfew in our town as the Milago do in theirs, I couldn't leave then. I started out for the village this morning. I arrived by mid-morning, and was about to head to the barracks. I dropped by the marketplace to grab a bite to eat, and that's when I noticed you."

She stopped him there. "Wait. How did you recognize me?" Unless Press had gotten a picture of her to him, which was unlikely since this territory didn't seem to have that kind of technology, she thought that sounded a little fishy.

He shrugged and said, "Well, I had a basic description of you… also, I overheard a group of people remarking that the, 'strange girl from the village over the mountains just asked what the names of the suns were.'" His lips were firmly pressed together, clearly in an attempt to keep from laughing.

Aria glared at him for only a moment before gesturing for him to go on. After all, if he hadn't noticed her, Dakka would probably be sitting on her right now.

"Well, I began trailing you…rather more proficiently than the big girl, I think."

"Dakka," Aria clarified. "Turns out she wasn't stalking me. She wanted to be noticed. She was herding me."

He nodded and said, "Yes, by the time I realized that myself it was too late, and they were making their move. The other girl, the one who got knocked off the ledge back there—"

"Jani."

"Jani," he nodded again. "She let loose a couple of horses that were tied up nearby and got them riled. Then she took off for the forest."

"And that's when you started following us?"

Again, he nodded.

Suddenly, he stopped. He cautioned for her to be careful, and extended his torch. Aria could see why. There was a hole directly in front of them, a small, crude fence the only thing keeping them from falling all the way down. She drew a bit closer to the pit, then glanced up, realizing that the hole extended above them, too.

"This was one of the first shafts built when the Milago began mining for glaze. It is also the deepest." His voice had taken on a more serious edge. "It extends much farther down, as well as all the way to the surface. We are directly under the monument in the center of town."

Aria felt a spark of excitement – it should be around noon, by now, and the monument was where Alder said he would meet her.

Then she realized the implication of Tarek's words, and her excitement was abruptly snuffed out. Unless she was mistaken, this was the shaft that several of the Milago had told her about. The shaft that miners would be thrown down during a Transfer, if the glaze they had mined wasn't sufficient.

She couldn't stop herself from imagining a screaming Milago plummeting down the hole in front of her, and she suddenly she felt like she was going to be ill.

Tarek was watching her, and must have noticed her change in mood. He asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm…alright," she replied shakily. "I've heard the stories. Those days were awful, weren't they?"

Once more, he nodded. "I wasn't alive then, but Alder has told me much of the old days, both from the Milago point of view, and the Bedoowan. The injustices were terrible, and it was a miracle things ended the way they did; that peace was an option." He glanced at her, a spark in his eyes. "As Travelers, it's our job to stop this sort of thing from happening again."

Aria's eye twitched. She found herself cringing away from the idea.

How was she supposed to stop this? Did Tarek really believe that they – that she – would be able to make a difference in a situation this big? And suppose they couldn't. Suppose it did happen again? What would happen to her? Standing so close to the edge of the pit, it was all too easy to imagine herself falling, screaming, plummeting helplessly down…

She struggled to force the thought out of her head.

They stood in silence for a few more minutes. Eventually Tarek said, "Come on. We aren't too far from the exit." He glanced at her, frowning a bit, then smiled reassuringly and held the torch out, leading her around.

Aria stared at him for a moment longer, thoughts buzzing, stomach churning, then followed.

She wanted to leave. She just wanted to go home, have a cup of hot chocolate, and tell Kar about her whole crazy adventure – no doubt her best friend would believe her – and try to salvage the interview she missed. She wanted to put this whole thing behind her.  
But now her uncle was in jail.

As Tarek led her through the dark, winding tunnels, which all looked so similar they were actually beginning to feel familiar, she began formulating a plan to get her and her uncle off of this territory.

Maybe she could convince the Bedoowan to let them go, provided they stay away until all of this was over. She thought that might work, but knew her uncle would never go for it. Maybe she could just stay low and let things go the course, not get involved, and when things calmed down, she and Press could take off.

As she was pondering her options, she noticed movement off to her side.

Her head whipped around, just in time to see someone at the far end of a branching tunnel shoot one quick, terrified glance at them, then take off running.

She pulled up to a dead halt, and called out, "Hey!"

Tarek stopped and looked at her in surprise. "What?"

He obviously hadn't seen the man. And it definitely had been a man. Fairly short, pale, wearing long, light-colored leathers, and carrying what looked like a large bag filled with…something.

Aria glanced at Tarek. "You didn't see him?"

"Who?"

"There was a man over there," She said while pointing down the tunnel. "He didn't look happy to see us. He took off running."

Tarek looked down the tunnel, then shrugged. "Well, most people don't come down here for anything. But as a result, the few who do have the place mostly to themselves. It's an ideal place to go if you want to hide things, or be alone. I wouldn't worry about it." Indeed, he didn't seem terribly interested, and kept walking.

Aria stared down the tunnel for a few more seconds, as though waiting for the man to reappear, then followed reluctantly. The man had looked terrified when he saw them. What did he have that was so important that he didn't want it being discovered, even by a couple of teenagers?

Aria stored the incident away in her mind, deciding to come back to it later. There was a bit of natural light streaming in through the cave, now, so they were probably very near the entrance.

Sure enough, the next corner they turned revealed a large opening and the daylight flooding through was nearly blinding. Aria, eager to be out of the cramped cave, ran forward, just about flinging herself out of the arched opening.

Tarek jogged after her, putting the torch out before emerging, and ran to her side. They were standing in the forest, a few Milago homes just visible through the trees. Aria glanced at Tarek and said, "Alder said he would meet me at the memorial at noon. Which direction is it?"

"This way," He said, then began jogging towards the village.

Aria followed, thoughts and ideas still running haphazardly through her head. She hoped that when she saw Alder, she would be able to put them straight.

She glanced up at the sky. The suns were close together, so either noon was either very close, or it had passed very recently. Of all the ideas running through her head, she had come to one conclusion. Her uncle was well-liked amongst the villagers. He would be fine here…and he would probably have an easier time of it without having to take care of her.

Come hell or high water, she was going home.


	17. Wolf in the Woods

Finding Alder was not going to be easy. There was a large and fairly dense crowd of people surrounding the monument on all sides. In the middle, standing on the monument platform, were three people who seemed to be addressing the crowd.

Aria looked at Tarek, who said, "It would appear that the councilors have returned from the Bedoowan town. Perhaps we should get a closer look?"

Aria nodded, and they stepped over the low wall that surrounded the memorial and began making their way through the crowds. Aria had a much easier time of it than Tarek, who was bulkier than her and was, furthermore, carrying a long and ungainly stick on his back. His attempts to get through the crowd were hindered by his awkwardly polite demeanor. "Er, pardon me. Excuse me. Sorry. Could I just…?"

Wanting to know what the big scene was about, she ducked and weaved through the crowd, leaving Tarek behind and quickly getting to the front.

The three men were standing on the memorial. It was a ring of stones, not unlike a well, but much larger. It was covered with a wooden platform, which was where the three men stood to address the crowd. It made her uneasy to realize that the platform they were on was all that was keeping them from plummeting to their deaths.

They were standing in a row. The man on the left, a grey-bearded eccentric, looked livid. He was glaring at the one on the far right, who seemed to be arguing with him. The one in the middle was watching the right one with a look of patient detachment.

Aria finally started to pick up on the conversation. "…to decide whether or not the Bedoowan are as negligent as you say, Kore? How are we to know, when it was we who ceased communication? When it was we who drove them out?"

The one on the left – Kore, presumably – replied. "We drove them out? They brought it upon themselves when they began the oppression! At any rate, they haven't exactly stayed gone, have they? Look at the patrols! Has no one noticed how heavy the night-patrol alone has been?"

The middle one interjected. "The night patrols have been increased to keep us safe from the beasts that roam the forest. You know that as well as I, Kore."

Kore narrowed his eyes. "Be that as it may, Maal, you cannot deny that it puts them at an advantage – having a large number of troops strategically located at one end of our village, and the rest of their forces in the town ready to approach from the other side? Or are you so blind—"

At this point the man on the right, whom Aria surmised to be Grail, the councilor who advocated for peace, interrupted. "I think that is enough, Kore. At any rate, we have digressed." With that he turned to the people, and addressed the crowds directly. "What matters is this: the Bedoowan are doing all they can to rectify the problems we face. Together, we are negotiating with the Lowsee tribe to bring in what Tryptite we can, and the rationing is being implemented just as strongly on the Bedoowan as it is on us. The…"

Aria stopped paying much attention. She had caught the attention of one of the councilors. The middle one – Maal, the neutral party – had picked her out of the crowd and was staring at her intently, his expression unreadable. Then he smirked, just a bit. His eyes flickered, turning bright blue.

Aria froze in shock. Realization hit her like a taser, paralyzing her just as effectively.

Councilor Maal was Saint Dane.

Suddenly a look of cold, flat fury crossed his face, and his eyes returned to normal. He was no longer looking at her. He was looking just behind her.

Aria unfroze once his eyes left hers, and she turned her head to see Jani, just a foot behind her, looking at Maal with an expression of horror on her face. That wasn't good. None of this was good. In fact, Aria decided that things had just gotten very, very bad. She needed to find Alder.

Before Grail could finish speaking – it mostly sounded like a lot of soothing political jargon anyways – Aria ducked behind some people and weaved through the crowd, immediately losing Jani and searching for Tarek. She found him nearby, caught his attention, and motioned frantically for him to join her on the outskirts of the crowd. He tilted his head at her curiously, but started trying to extricate himself from the throng of people.

He finally managed to saunter over to her just as the councilors finished their speeches, and the crowd began to disperse. She pulled his head down impatiently, eliciting a surprised squawk from him. "Listen, something really important just cropped up. One, Jani is here and there might be trouble soon. Two, Councilor Maal is Saint Dane. Three, Jani saw him drop his cover for a moment, and she knows something's up with him, and Saint Dane knows she knows something's up with him, which is why there might be trouble soon." She had said all of this very quickly and fairly quietly. She looked at him for his reaction.

Tarek look completely baffled. Clearly he was having trouble wrapping his head around this. Then he said, "Er…what? Councilor Maal, Saint Dane? That cannot be." He tilted his head, looking at her curiously. "What makes you…?"

She cut him off impatiently. "He picked me out of the crowd while everyone was focused on Grail. He looked directly at me, and his eyes flashed blue. Have you ever seen his eyes?"

"Err, no, I've never actually seen him personally, I've only—"

Aria cut him off again. "Well, trust me, there's no mistaking them." Her eyes darted back over to the platform to see what was going on. Kore seemed to have departed, but Grail and Maal – Grail and Saint Dane – were standing nearby discussing something. Suddenly, they broke off their discussion and began walking towards the forest.

A feeling of unease settled over her. She had a bad feeling about this. She turned back to Tarek and said, "You stay here and look for Alder. I'll meet up with you in a little bit. I'm going to follow them to see if I can…" She trailed off.

Why was she doing this? If she wasn't planning on staying here, then she definitely didn't want to be getting involved in this.

Then again, if she could get some useful information now, then maybe – just maybe – Uncle Press wouldn't be completely disappointed in her for bailing later.

Tarek looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he nodded, frowning. "Alright. We should meet up right back here. See you shortly, and…be careful. We don't know what Saint Dane is capable of."

Well, we know he can shapeshift, summon giant bear monsters, and paralyze a person with a glance. Or maybe that's just me. Oh, and he might have a gun.

Suddenly following him seemed like a terrible idea. She winced. She really didn't want to go. But she had just taken charge, and furthermore, for whatever reason, Tarek actually seemed to be listening to her. She didn't want to back out now – she'd look like a complete pansy. She normally wasn't a proud person, but she did have to draw the dignity line somewhere.

So instead of thinking about all the ways this could go horribly wrong, she just charged straight into the potentially dangerous situation with no plan whatsoever and hoped that things would work out.

Great.

She saw Grail and Maal disappearing into the forest. She jogged after them, trying not to make herself too obvious and probably failing miserably. She reached the edge of the forest and slowed down, taking care not to make too much noise stepping on leaves and branches and whatnot.

The two men were walking side by side, and seemed to be engaged in conversation. They were quite a ways ahead of her. She did her best to keep them in sight, but between trying to stay low and moving slowly enough to avoid making noise, she lost sight of them fairly quickly.

She let out a low sound of frustration, trying to keep to the direction she thought they may have been heading, and, again, probably failing. She didn't want to head back just to tell Tarek (and, with any luck, Alder) that she had lost the councilors five minutes in and then gave up. So, she kept going.

Not long after that the trees became much thicker, the foliage dense. The terrain had shifted so it was slightly uphill, too, and her legs were starting to feel it. She was out of water, and starting to get hungry again. Hopefully her stomach wouldn't growl and give her away…if she managed to relocate her quarry, of course.

She stumbled around the dense foliage for about ten more minutes before stumbling upon a slight break in the trees. She went over to a small rise with a large fallen tree at the top, poked her head over, and froze.

There was a small clearing just in front of her. Councilor Maal was standing alone in the tall grass, facing away from her.

She started to panic, and decided it would be a good time to hide. There were plenty of trees around, but as she looked at the fallen log in front of her she had a better idea.

She dropped to her stomach, and was immediately covered in tall ferns. Her head was poking just over the rise – but as she had hoped, the fallen log wasn't flush with the uneven ground. There were a few inches of space between them. She craned her neck down a bit to align her eyes with the space; from her position, there was no way he could possibly see her, and she had a good view of most of the clearing.

She wondered where Councilor Grail was. He wasn't anywhere in the clearing, so she figured he must be hanging back in the forest. Suddenly, Maal's head whipped around, his eyes scanning the foliage.

They came to rest on her hiding space.

A shiver passed through her. She began to panic, thinking, he can't see me. He can't possibly know I'm here. Oh, please don't know I'm here.

His eyes narrowed, and he turned all the way around and began sprinting straight towards her.

Oh, no. Oh, no. No, no, no. 

She laid there on the forest floor, hoping beyond hope that he hadn't seen her, as he ran straight at her. He got to the log, crouched, leapt right over it—

His foot landed an inch shy of her back. His momentum carried him straight over her, then past her, and he kept running.

He had missed her completely.

She stayed there, unmoving for a moment, trembling. She decided not to move until she was sure he had left, then head back to the village. She was just starting to relax when a screech erupted from behind her.

She turned her head and saw what had drawn Saint Dane's attention.

Jani was in a tree, clinging desperately to one of the branches. Maal had her leg in a death grip, and his form was starting to shift and change. Aria heard him speak, his voice changing from that of Maal to the colder, more cultured voice of the man she had spoken to in the cave on the mountain.

"So…curious were you, girl? You wanted to know what I was up to? I'm afraid you'll be getting a great deal more than you bargained for."

Aria struggled to her knees, and turned about, all her senses on red alert. His back was to her, his full attention on Jani. Aria could almost certainly sneak away without him noticing.

With a final great tug, Saint Dane ripped the girl from the tree branch. He swung her around, hoisting her up by the collar, and held her suspended in the air with one hand.

Aria froze, locked in a raging internal debate. Jani would definitely leave her for dead had their fortunes been reversed. Besides that, Jani had caused her nothing but pain and trouble since they had met. Aria had absolutely no reason to stick up for her.

No reason at all – aside from the fact that if she didn't do anything, she would never be able to look herself in the eye again.

She took a deep breath, then began searching the ground for something she could use as a weapon. She knew that Saint Dane wouldn't have revealed himself to Jani if he had intended to let her live. Maybe if the eye flash was the only thing she had seen, but now…

Aria got her hand around a good sized rock just as Saint Dane got his hand around the hilt of a knife he had in his belt loop. She crept up behind him, rock in hand. She was only five feet away, and he still hadn't noticed her.

Jani was gasping now, her eyes bulging in horror at the sight of the knife. Just as Saint Dane brought the blade up, Aria readied herself, drew back her arm, and threw the rock with all the force she could muster.

It missed him completely, flying by his head and clipping Jani on the side of her face. She howled, more in surprise than pain, Aria thought.

Saint Dane's head whipped around, and Aria cursed all the days she had opted out of dodge-ball in Phys. Ed.

He looked at her, gauged the distance between them, then spoke. His tone was almost incredulous. "How did you miss…?"

It really was ridiculous. It was a pretty big rock and she had hurtled it, point blank, at the back of his head. Even as tall as he was, it should have been a sure hit.

She had missed.

"Uhhh…"

He just shook his head at her, and said, "Run along, little Traveler. I have no plans for you…yet." He got a predatory grin, and his eyes flashed with alarming intensity. At the sight of that look, the muscles in Aria's legs seemed to forget themselves, and her knees went weak. Her breath lodged in her throat, and it seemed impossible for her to move, let alone run.

That was when Jani's boot planted itself squarely in the place no man wants to be hit.

Saint Dane's eyes widened, and he hissed in pain, letting go of Jani's collar. She dropped to the ground, stumbling a bit. He snarled at her and turned his head, raising the knife once more.

With the break in eye contact, Aria forced herself into action, slinging her pack off her back and sprinting straight for Saint Dane. As the knife swung forward, she hurtled herself onto his shoulders, wrapping the bag around his face and jerking back on the leather pack-harness. He let out a muffled snarl. She started tying the straps together, effectively securing the backpack to his face.

He spat and his hand clawed for his back, trying to dislodge her. She tightened her grip until the knife swung back as well. He had turned it around and swept it in a backwards arc, and while his angle was poor enough that he couldn't land a lethal hit, the blade did slice through her leathers and carve a nasty gash along her right ribcage.

She screamed and let go, just as Jani stepped up and delivered another heavy blow of similar orientation to the first. He let out an angry screech and swung the knife blindly forward. Jani dodged it, and in the commotion Aria ducked around him. She saw his gun in a holster on his belt, and without a second thought, grabbed it as she ran by.

The two girls sprinted in the direction of the village. At least, Aria hoped it was the direction of the village. She was trusting Jani to lead her right, assuming that Jani wanted to get to safety just as much as she did. She didn't hear Saint Dane pursuing them – thank goodness – but she still kept running at as rapid a pace as she could.

However, adrenaline aside, the wound he had dealt her was screaming at her. It felt like her whole right side was on fire. She brought a hand to her ribs and it came away red. Her stomach lurched, and she forced herself not to look at it. The sight of blood made her extremely uncomfortable. Especially when it was her blood.

They finally reached the outskirts of the village. Aria put her back to the first hut she saw, and slid to the ground, gasping for breath and clutching her side.

Jani was panting too; her eyes were wide and wild, and her whole body was shaking. She looked to Aria, then began stalking over to her. In a moment Jani was looming over her.

Aria's eyes widened and she cringed, tucking her head in and clenching her jaw.

Jani stood right in front of the injured girl, silent for a moment. Then she burst out indignantly, "You just saved my life, and you think I'm gonna beat you up? I mean, give me a break; you're bleeding like a bear! I still don't like you, but I'm not that bad!"

Aria looked up at her skeptically. Jani just scowled and sat down. They remained in silence until they had both caught their breath.

Aria rolled her head over, feeling faint. "Hey, look, I know you hate my guts, but could you go over to the memorial and find that knight who pulled you off of me yesterday – Alder – and the kid who saved my skin earlier? His name's Tarek. Just tell them Aria's hurt and needs help." As an afterthought she added, "And clarify that you weren't the one that hurt me."

Jani growled a bit, and said, "Only if you tell me what's going on."

Aria ground her teeth and hissed, "I'll tell you later. When I'm not bleeding to death from a wound I got saving your ass!" 

Jani snorted and said, "Oh, come on. You're not anywhere close to dying. I have your word?"

Aria ground her teeth in frustration. Aria didn't make promises lightly, but the pain in her side was not getting any better. At last she nodded.

Jani seemed satisfied. She hopped up and jogged away.

Aria lay against the side of the building, thankfully in the shade, and watched the forest. She was now extremely hungry, extremely thirsty, and suffering from minor blood loss. The wound really wasn't that bad, but it hurt like sin. Combine that with the stress of the last few days and the absolute terror that Saint Dane was going to step out of the forest to finish her off, and you had one seriously unhappy camper.

Why had her uncle decided to bring her with him?

She heard a rustle in the bushes, and her eyes snapped up. She hadn't even realized it, but they had begun to droop. She searched the bushes in front of her for any sign of movement; the swish of a black coat, the leathers of a Bedoowan councilor, a flash of blue. Her heart throbbed painfully fast, until a hint of movement above her drew her eye.

A large black bird was perched on a branch in a nearby tree. It was looking at her with one glimmering yellow eye.

She looked at it, smiled, then started giggling hysterically.

The bird cocked its head, and she called out to it. "Hullo, raven! Tell me what thy lordly name is, on this night's plutonian shore?" Then she started laughing again.

Oh, yeah, she was out of it. After a few more moments the bird leaned forward and shifted on its perch, as though preparing to fly over to her, and Aria wondered if it was a scavenger. Big scavenging birds will go for live prey if it's injured enough.

She didn't have to worry, though. A moment later she heard someone calling for her. "Aria? Aria!" It sounded like Alder.

He appeared around the hut she had been leaning against, and knelt down beside her, eyes wide with concern. Tarek appeared a moment later, poking his head around, and wincing when he saw her. "I thought I told you to be careful!" Tarek exclaimed.

She waved a hand. "Don't worry; it's not that bad. I'm just…really tired…" She let out a yawn. She was starting to nod off again.

Alder nodded, eyebrows still creased fretfully. He scooped an arm around her, lifting her up as though she were a child, and she winced as the pain in her side flared up again. He said, "Do not worry. There is a medic who lives near here. We will tend to you there, and when you are done resting you can eat."

"And write more journals, I'm sure." She said groggily.

Alder smiled tightly, and began walking her away. Jani was nearby, standing there with crossed arms and a petulant expression on her face. Tarek looked pale and worried.

She wanted to tell him not to worry, it wasn't that bad, but she was too tired. Just as she started to black out, she tilted her head back, looking towards the forest, and the tree the large black bird had been perched on. The bird was gone.


	18. Loose Lips

Saint Dane stared down at the injured Traveler who lay crouched against the wall of the hut. She hadn't noticed him, and her head was starting to droop as she fell into semi-consciousness. She had sent off her irksome new friend to find help, most likely. Either that or the vile girl had simply deserted her.

  
He had taken on his avian form, and was resting on a branch overlooking the area. He stared down at Aria as she clutched her side, and he could hear her groaning softly in pain from his perch.

  
His frustration gnawed at him. He could scarcely believe she had dared to attack him. Of course, he knew that Pendragon would have done the same thing in the given situation. The obsession with preserving life – no matter how tedious or insignificant – was one of the hallmarks of a Traveler from Solara. Nevertheless…

  
His long black claws tightened around the branch, digging into the bark and leaving deep little scores. She had taken his gun. Why? Had she intended to use it against him had he pursued? Was it simply to keep him from shooting them? It lay there beside her, forgotten now as her awareness drifted. He ruffled his wings, shaking the branch slightly and reasserting his balance.

  
She jerked her head up when he disturbed the bough, startled by the noise. She looked around, fear etched on her face. After scanning the foliage groggily, her eyes trailed up to his branch.

  
She stared blankly at him for a moment, and Saint Dane wondered if she recognized him for what he was. Then she smiled, and began giggling. Clearly Press had not mentioned to keep an eye out for large black birds. More fool him.

  
He cocked his head as she called up to him, "Hullo, raven! Tell me what thy lordly name is, on this night's plutonian shore?" She began laughing madly at this.

  
Poe. How quaint.

  
He eyed the wound on her side. Although he hadn't intended to do more than nick her with the blade, she was bleeding moderately and clearly in no fit state to help herself. No one had arrived, and he wondered if the Milago girl had abandoned her after all.  
He narrowed his eyes. He did not need to keep his avian form a secret from the girl, and furthermore it might be fun to toy with her a bit more.

  
He decided that he would confront her again. After all, they hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk during their encounter, and he intended to get to know his enemy eventually at any rate. Once she was unconscious – and he could certainly speed that process along if the blood-loss wasn't as severe as it seemed – he would take on a new guise and carry her to one of the medics in the village. At any rate, it would give him a chance to reclaim his gun, though he was curious as to how the girl may use it if he left it in her care.

  
She was still looking at him, though the laughter had trailed off. Just as he prepared to glide down to her, his eye caught movement just beyond the building. The irksome Milago girl had brought help after all.

  
Alder approached, along with his Traveler-to-be…Tarek. Saint Dane dismissed the boy as much of a threat. Although his combat experience was rather impressive – goodness knows Aria would need someone to cover her on that front – he was a dull boy. Good, hardworking, and honest. One of the hardest people to manipulate. Saint Dane held nothing but contempt for him.

  
He settled back down as Alder came around the side of the building. When he saw Aria, his eyes widened with concern, and he knelt by her side. They spoke for a moment, then he lifted her carefully up and turned to walk away.

  
Saint Dane narrowed his eyes and swept off the branch, effortlessly gaining altitude and circling around to watch the scene a moment longer. He saw that Tarek take notice of the gun, and bent down to inspect it. He picked it up, looked at it curiously, and actually went so far as to try to peer down the muzzle.

  
Oh, please pull the trigger.

  
Normally it irked him to watch inexperienced fools flaunt such weapons around carelessly, as though they were toys to be toted about and shown off, but goodness knows it would bother him little to see the Traveler put a round through himself.

  
He knew that it would make little difference in the grand scheme of things. Alder would simply revive the boy, as Pendragon had done with Loor so long ago on Zaada. Still, it would be a significant drain on their Solara's energy, and it would be amusing to watch besides.

  
But no. Tarek simply slung his pack off his shoulders and stowed it in there. It likely wouldn't go off on its own now – the trigger was particularly heavy. Still, there was always a chance.

  
The Milago girl was standing nearby as well. He looked at her carefully. Had she seen his deed in the clearing? He certainly hoped not. If she spread the news now, before he had found what he was looking for…alas, he hadn't the time to deal with her now.  
He wheeled in the sky, heading north towards the Bedoowan town. His men were awaiting Sawil's orders. It wouldn't do to keep them waiting. His eye flickered back to Alder, and deep inside, he smiled coldly.

  
_Care for them while you can, Traveler. Your days on this territory are numbered._

  
\---

  
_She ran through the darkness. The tunnels echoed around her, their stony walls reflecting the terrible roar of whatever was chasing her. She turned, left, right, left, left again. As she fled down earthy corridors that were almost familiar, she began to pant in exhaustion._

  
_As she ran, nearly knowing where she was going, the tunnels began to change. Now they were rounder, more solid, and the stone was dark grey. Concrete. Small pipes ran along the walls, carrying their mysterious contents from nowhere to nowhere._

  
_"What…?" A voice spoke. It seemed to come from the same place the pipes led - nowhere. "No, no. Back to the caves, go on, nice and easy. Go – back—"_

  
_But she knew where she was now, and she ran blindly forward, trying to escape even as she drew closer to what she feared. Dark, empty florescent lights lined the walls of the smooth stone tunnels, a rail sweeping by at her side. She was moving too fast, much too fast._

  
_She emerged at last in the huge room, a steady drip of water echoing off the concrete walls and concrete floor. Four giant stone cylinders protruded slightly from the floor, each covered, and each with a large square door in the middle. One could lift it up to access the contents inside, or to deposit something if they cared to._

  
_Her feet had carried her to the edge of the third platform, and even as she looked she told herself she would go no further. As she turned, she saw the man standing there in a shabby, dark grey trench coat, his face hidden by the brim of a hat. She backed up involuntary, taking a high step to get onto the cylinder's lid, and as she did so she realized that the lid had turned to wood, that it was the platform which covered the entrance to the mineshaft, the deepest one, in the middle of the village._

  
_She froze, again. The trap door was open, her heels touched the darkness that nestled just below her. She would go no further, she wouldn't go back down. But the man had other plans. And as Aria looked into his face she saw the eyes flash blue._

  
_She was falling backwards. Downwards. She pinwheeled her arms, a cry caught in her throat, and though half of her was afraid she was going to fall forever, a long moment later she hit the surface of the water. As soon as she was under she began to thrash, trying to regain the surface, trying to fight off the panic._

  
_"Aria? It's—" The voice was familiar._

  
_…but the water was colder than ice, so cold it actually burned her, and it felt like someone had pressed a white-hot iron into her side—_

  
_"—up, it's alright, Aria!"_

  
_It was dark, it was cold, she couldn't resurface, couldn't move, couldn't breathe—_

  
\---

  
"Aria! Wake up! Aria!" A man's voice implored her.

  
Her eyes flew open, and she began gasping desperately, trying to catch her breath. She still couldn't move because she was being held down by someone. Didn't they know she couldn't swim if they held her like that? How was she supposed to reach the surface if she _couldn't move her arms?_

  
"Calm down! It's alright. You're safe, you're fine, everything's fine."

  
After a few moments she realized where she was, and who was talking. Alder was hunched above her, pinning her shoulders to the bed, keeping her from thrashing around. She looked at him, still gasping a bit. Then she stilled.

  
He watched her closely for a moment, then cautiously let her go. "Are you alright? It seemed as though you were having a nightmare."

  
Nightmare? That was putting it mildly. Finally Aria regained enough calm and breath to reply. "Er, yeah. I get night terrors. They're like nightmares, but a million times worse." She winced when she realized that she had really gone ape on this one. "Sorry about that."

  
He smiled at her, which she was surprised to find calmed her down a lot. He said, "Do not worry. There was no harm done – except, maybe, to yourself." His eyebrows creased with some worry as he eyed her side.

  
She frowned, then realized that part of her night terror had followed her into real life. Her side was hurting, and she tried to think back on how she might have sustained an injury. She recalled meeting Tarek, emerging from the mines with him; she remembered the meeting and Saint Dane with a chill. She had followed him into the woods, where—

  
A shiver passed through her as she remembered. He had cut her when she had jumped on his back.

  
Alder, seeing this, asked, "Are you alright? The wound was not too deep, and the medic said it should heal fully in a few weeks, but it may be painful for a while." His voice was laced with concern.

  
Aria felt a pang of gratitude towards him, and smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. "It's not too bad. Don't worry. I'm fine."

  
Alder once again eyed the wound. "Well, your movement doesn't seem to have reopened it, though truth be told there wasn't much to reopen. The bleeding had all but stopped on its own by the time we got you here."

  
That reminded Aria of the rest of the circumstance that had led her to her predicament, and wanted to ask about Jani. However, Alder chose that moment to turn to the door and say, "Excuse me a moment. I will return shortly."

  
Aria closed her mouth and nodded. Alder left the room. She looked around, noting as she did that the light, now slightly orange, was slanting almost straight through the window. Sunset again.

  
The room was small and simple, but clean and comfortable. There was a bed stand next to her, and a little round table across from her. This was covered with what appeared to be bandages, small cups, a pestle and mortar, and some bloody rags. She cringed at the sight of the rags. Then she noticed movement in the doorway.

  
Jani entered the room, glaring moodily at Aria. She leaned against the doorway, and stood there silently. Aria simply watched her, wondering what the Milago intended to say or do. After another minute of silence, Jani shot a glance over her shoulder, scowled, and slouched out of the way. Alder came in, a tray of food in one hand and a cup in the other.

  
Aria's heart leaped, eyes darting to the food like a cat's to a hummingbird.

  
Alder watched Jani sternly, depositing the food tray containing a bowl of soup, a small loaf of bread, and another of the apple-like fruits, on the bed stand. He handed Aria the cup, which was full of water, and urged her to drink. "Thank you." Aria's throat was dry as the Mojave, and she began happily chugging until Alder cautioned her to take small sips. She grumbled a bit, but did as he asked.

  
When she was done with the water, Alder handed her the tray. Her stomach growled; she hadn't eaten since that afternoon, and she was starving. Again. She really hoped this wasn't going to become a normal thing. The same way she'd hoped the surprise footraces wouldn't become a normal thing.

  
She dug in.

  
Aria shivered in delight as she tore into the loaf of bread, barely taking any time to chew before swallowing. As she made her way quickly and voraciously through her meal, Jani's watched, torn between mild fascination and disgust. Alder merely shook his head, trying to not smile.

  
Once Aria demolished her dinner, a feat which had taken less than three minutes – impressive considering the amount – she sighed happily. It was amazing how much of an impact a good meal could have on one's mood. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of a full stomach.

  
Then she blinked them open again, and looked at Jani.

  
Jani glared some more.

  
Alder looked between the two of them, then spoke. "I will…leave you two to talk." He shot Jani a stern glance, clearly warning her against taking any sort of action against Aria, then he turned and disappeared through the door.

  
They sat in silence for some time, tension thick in the air. Aria doubted that Jani was about to thank her, but was at least fairly confident that she wasn't about to attack her, either. Jani's face was turning a bit red with the evident effort of restraining herself from an outburst. At last she spoke.

  
"So…who was that guy?" Her words were limited to a snarl. Better than a bellow, but still not as pleasant as a nice mellow hiss.

  
Aria figured she was referring to Saint Dane. She paused, debating on how much to tell her. She honestly wasn't sure what the protocol was for telling strangers about the whole Traveler thing. She didn't think her uncle would approve of her running around telling everyone about the true nature of the Travelers – not that she really knew what that was herself – but she had promised Jani an explanation, and she always kept her word.

  
Suddenly she felt a sharp pang of resentment towards her uncle, an anger than seemed to throb in time with her aching side. She hadn't asked to be dragged into this. And if he hadn't taken the time to explain the ins and outs, that was his problem, wasn't it?

  
She scowled a bit, then said, "His name is Saint Dane. He's a shape shifter who's here to topple this entire world into chaos."

  
Jani stared at her with a hard look on her face, and Aria couldn't tell if she was about to accuse her of lying, or accept what she had to say without objection. After a moment she realized Jani was waiting for her to continue. She thought about how best to do so.

  
She twitched her nose in irritation realizing that there wasn't much else she could really say about Saint Dane. She didn't know what his end-game was, she didn't know what he had done so far, she only knew one of his identities, and she didn't know what he was doing with it at the moment. She sighed in frustration, then kept going. "I guess his normal form is the one you saw earlier, but he can turn into anyone he wants, from what I've heard."

  
Jani interrupted. "What do you mean, 'from what you've heard'? Don't you know what's going on?" Her voice was tight with anger.

  
Aria's nose twitched again in irritation. _No, I don't know what's going on, but I know a whole lot more than you!_

  
Keeping this sentiment to herself, she continued, ignoring the interruption. "At the moment, he's taken on the role of Maal, which means he's in a position to do…a lot of damage." Filling Jani in was actually raising a lot of questions. She was starting to think about the situation as a whole. She frowned, considering. "I suppose his end game is to get the Milago and the Bedoowan to go to war with each other, but…"

  
She trailed off, not knowing how to continue. There were a lot of problems with her theory. She decided to see what Jani thought of her explanation so far.

  
As it was, Jani didn't seem it be taking it much better than Aria had at first. "But…Maal? He's a Milago. He's one of us! How can he be some…shape shifting monster? What do you mean he's trying to start a war? Why? And what do _you_ have to do with it?" She whipped around towards Aria, teeth bared. "Why are you here? Who are you? If you know so much about him, why aren't you doing anything to stop this? _Arrgh!"_

  
She let out a frustrated screech and started pacing furiously around the room, head down and teeth clenched. Aria stared at her for a moment, feeling a sudden swoop of anger. She opened her mouth, getting ready to reply to the accusations in earnest, when she caught a glimpse of Jani's face. It took her a moment to process the expression on it, but when she had, the words died in her throat.

  
Jani was just as frightened as she was.

  
Aria closed her mouth, anger subsiding. They were both confused, afraid, and, as the events of that day had proven, hopelessly outmatched. The largest difference between them was that while Aria's biggest concern was getting home, Jani's problem was even worse.

  
She _was_ home. This was her home.

  
And Saint Dane was trying to destroy it.

  
Aria sighed, letting her head droop, until Jani stopped pacing and calmed down enough to continue listening.

  
Aria tried to answer her questions as carefully as possible. "Like I said, my name is Aria. And I'm an outsider. But, honestly, you have no idea how much of an understatement that is."

  
At this Jani looked at her closely, eyes narrowing, clearly looking for a better explanation.

  
Aria took a deep breath and explained, to the best of her ability, about the flumes and her own territory. She took great pains not to let on how little she knew herself about the whole thing.

  
While she was talking, she suddenly realized what a relief it was to share all of this. She thought back to her uncle's insistence about the journals, and realized why it was so important to keep a record of what was happening to her. If she didn't get the chance to vent, she was pretty sure she would go crazy. She vaguely hoped that her journals had been safely delivered.

  
When she had finished, Jani was staring at her in openmouthed shock. Aria sat patiently, waiting for it to sink in. Finally, Jani seemed to come back to herself.

  
She called Aria something that she didn't think she would be recording in her journals.

  
Aria winced. She probably should have expected as much.

  
Nevertheless, she shrugged off both the profanity and the accompanying disbelief, and said, "Okay, well, you don't have to believe all of it. So long as you're up to snuff on the whole Saint Dane thing, I guess that's good enough. Besides, you're the one who asked. Why should I care whether or not you believe me?"

  
Jani opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again with a glare. Man, this girl was an Olympic-grade glarer.

  
"Well, I guess that's one thing we can agree on. I don't care about your stupid flumes or territories or anything. What I care about it the fact that that guy, Saint Dane, is here, right now, trying to…" She didn't seem able to convey the sentiment, 'destroy everything in my life that I've ever cared about and plunge my entire world into chaos'.

  
Aria nodded, and was about to continue talking when Alder walked in with Tarek.

  
The younger Traveler smiled when he saw Aria, but then shot a moody look at Jani. The glare he got back was more potent than his by an order of magnitude. He backed off and retuned his attention warily to Aria.

  
Alder, meanwhile, ignored Jani and addressed Aria directly. "I'm glad to see that you are doing better. I hope that you two have worked out your differences?"

  
Aria shrugged. "Yeah. I told her all about Saint Dane and the whole Traveler thing and stuff."

  
Tarek's mouth popped open and he stared at Aria in shock. Alder was similarly affected. _"You told her what?"_

  
Aria shrugged moodily, but now she was starting to think that she probably shouldn't have been so open with the information.

  
Alder clasped his forehead and began pacing around the now cramped room. Jani and Tarek pressed up against the wall to avoid being bowled over. After a minute of this Alder spoke again. "Aria, you _cannot_ reveal to the people of the territories our reason for being here! It goes against everything we are working to achieve. Did Press not tell you this?"

  
Aria flushed with embarrassment. "Well, uhhh…not in as many words…I mean, he told me about keeping the territories separate, but he didn't actually _say…"_

  
Alder suddenly turned and looked intently into her eyes. Aria met them for only a moment before being forced to look down. She suddenly realized that, resentful or not, blabbing about their mission was a line she shouldn't have crossed.

  
After a few moments of silence, she spoke quietly. "It won't happen again."

  
Aria felt Alder's gaze pin her for a few more moments, then he relented. Aria glanced up to see him covering his eyes, head tilted up slightly towards the ceiling. Then he relaxed, and nodded. "Well, let us hope that this does not lead to too much damage. Now, we must—"

  
It was then that Jani, who had been steadily growing redder and redder in the corner, evidently furious about being talked about as though she wasn't there, exploded. "Oi! I'm right here, and I have a right to know what's going on! Besides, I'm not stupid!"

  
Tarek looked like he had something to say to that, but Aria shot him a glance. He kept his silence.

  
"You think you can feed me whatever story you want and I'll just go along with it? What makes you think you have any right to hide what's going on from me? This is my village! I live here, and I'm not gonna let an outsider and a couple of–" Aria suspected that she just barely managed to bite back an insult. _"–Bedoowan_ just run around doing whatever they want while I sit around, clueless, and let that madman start a war in my _home!"_

  
Alder had watched her in surprise during the whole outburst. When she quieted down he looked at her thoughtfully, a hint of a frown on his face. Then after a brief silence he said, "You are right. It was presumptuous of me not to take your role in this into account. I apologize."

  
Jani continued furiously, "So don't think I'm just gonna—" She cut off as she realized that he was no longer trying to exclude her from the issue. She looked at him blankly for a moment, then said, "Oh. Uhhh…Right." She flushed again, though Aria suspected that this time it wasn't in anger. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again and slouched against the wall, arms folded, staring moodily at the floor.

  
Alder looked at her for a moment longer, smiling slightly, then he turned back to Aria. He shook his head. "Never mind. Whatever the effect of your…openness of information, we must focus on the task at hand." At this, his face took on a more serious look.

"Let us discuss what we know so far."


End file.
